Gather Us In...and Out the Back Door!
Good Pope Benedict! It looks like he's finally kicking that crap Catholic music from the "Gather Us In" generation to the curb, along with all the post-conciliar shag-carpet aesthetics. Happy happy joy joy! (Via Andrew.)...
I haven't been to church in more than a decade and I have no plans to return. So I truly have no stake in what kind of music is played there. It could be hip-hop klezmer for all I care.
But when I used to go to church, I liked the folky music. Classical composers are wonderful, but why the hate for the acoustic guitar?
I'm overjoyed by this news. Laus Deo, indeed!
Timbo, I'm with you.
There is something inherently more spiritual about blowing wind off the top of pipes than plucking strings across a soundboard? And if so, where does that leave the harp and the piano?
Don't look for this crowd to make sense. They want to take the Church back to a (mostly imaginary) state of bliss circa 1950. Inconveniently for that point of view, those of us who were actually there in 1950 testify that everything was not marvelous then. However, we're old now (and hence unreliable) and better yet, we'll be gone soon, so the younger people will be able to indulge their fantasies without limit.
At least one Catholic co-cathedral has been using the Episcopal Hymnal for serveral decades. It is glorious. Every time I've had to attend a Catholic funeral mass for a friend's parent, I cring at the music.
Come on, Susan, do you really think Andrew Sullivan wants to take the Church back to the 1950s? I learned about this from his site, where he cited it approvingly. It's about aesthetics. The Episcopal Church is way liberal, but still has better aesthetic taste than latter-day American Catholicism. Aesthetics won't save your soul, but they are important.
I grew up in a tiny Methodist church in eastern North Carolina. For many years I believed that the essence of Christian worship was an upright piano accompanying a several dozen off-key senior citizens.
Though I've never attended a Catholic mass with the acoustic guitar, I can't imagine it being particularly edifying. The Baptists and Pentacostals are much better at pulling off the whole "contemporary" schtick, and even they don't seem to produce much in the way of listenable music.
Oh, whatever. This is just more traditionalist fetishizing of the past. Get a blog-life.
So much for needing to be relevant.
I'm going to celebrate this news by listening to some Faure later.
Susan and Timbo, I think you misunderstand. I've nothing against the guitar as an instrument, and I'm sure others who share my musical tastes would agree that it can be used to create lovely music. Unfortunately, the use of badly tuned guitars to highlight the schlocky, ill-written, lyrically infantile compositions of the latter half of the twentieth century's liturgical music, many of which seem to have been written by people who thought that a Rogers and Hammerstein musical represented the highest pinnacle of human musical achievement and attempted to imitate this style in their own compositions, sadly falling just short of utter failure to do so, has given me, and people like me, a bit of a distaste for guitar music at Mass.
Liturgical music is supposed to be about worshiping God, not endlessly celebrating Us In Our Specialness. I'm so thankful that Pope Benedict XVI not only understands this, but intends to make a return to the true notion of sacred music a priority in his papacy.
There's nothing "relevant" about schlocky religious music that's sounds like it was written by Simon & Garfunkel. On a bad day.
"There's nothing "relevant" about schlocky religious music that's sounds like it was written by Simon & Garfunkel. On a bad day."
Sure there is. Just not to you. I'd argue there's nothing relevant about Faure, even though I find it beautiful. I'd argue there's nothing relevant about chanting, even thought I find it spiritual. Of course, I already attend mass. The question is what is relevant to the unchurched, not the crumudgeons alread in the pews.
Here's hoping some Protestant churches do the same thing. I love the hymns, written in keys that everyone can sing, as opposed to contemporary Christian music that is hard to sing, and is eminently forgettable. Honestly, we skip services at our church because the music is just so annoying.
Erin, you hit the nail on the head.
I celebrated first with C. V. Stanford's wonderful Te Deum in B flat, and I now have Haydn's grinning Te Deum, which has some almost jazz-like rhythms, going.
I suspect anonymous at 3:18 PM has spent a lifetime marinating his brain in bad music, both inside and outside of churches.
"The question is what is relevant to the unchurched, not the crumudgeons alread in the pews."
Not in the least, Daniel. Once again, liturgical music is about worship, not evangelization. It is neither necessary nor desirable to alter the Church's liturgy to pander to those who don't ordinarily go to church.
It is neither necessary nor desirable to alter the Church's liturgy to pander to those who don't ordinarily go to church.
Yup.
I may just break out in a Te Deum for the Holy Father. At last the wasteland that has plagued the postconciliar church is being cleaned up.
Deo gratias!
i liturgical music is about worship, not evangelization."
I'd argue it is about both. If you don't evangelize during worship, then you are chanting alone.
"It is neither necessary nor desirable to alter the Church's liturgy to pander to those who don't ordinarily go to church."
Works for those relevant Pentecostals. Seems to work in the Evangelcials mega churches. We shifted to singing songs in English to attract more people. Hymnody has always been about the music of the people, not the elites.
"Anonymous at 3:18 p.m." posts here under another name. I know the IP now, and that person will be banned every time I see a post from him or her.
I agree, Erin. The important thing about liturgy is that it's something you enter into, rather than something trying desperately to get your attention. As Catholics, we reach out to the unchurched, not in the liturgy, but in the traditional method that has been perfected over centuries -- arguing over drinks.
Check the Dominican constitutions, it's all right there.
"Hymnody has always been about the music of the people, not the elites."
However, Daniel, the singing of hymns is a tiny fraction of the music proper to the Church. Liturgical music is *so* much more than the "four-hymn sandwich" construct.
Moreover, hymns should still reflect the best the Church has to offer God, should be musically adept and theologically sound; St. Thomas Aquinas' "Pange Lingua" is an example of how to do this, while Bernadette Farrell's "Bread For the World" is an example of how NOT to do this.
Again, music at Mass is offered as part of our worship of God. If the purpose of it was to attract the unchurched or appeal to the lowest common denominator of musical taste some of the hymns written in the last half century or so would be fine; sadly, as neither of these is the purpose of sacred music, most of them are not.
No Daniel, you are wrong. The liturgy is for the Church. That's why the Catechumens were dismissed in the early Church before the Eucharist because they had not yet been fully initiated into the mysteries.
I am a Catholic, not a Pentecostal or Evangelical and the historic liturgy is my spiritual lifeblood.
You do realize musical taste is relative, don't you Erin? I mean, much of the traditional liturgical music we use was considered "schlock" by elites in the church at some point. I love the traditional liturgy, but I also can be moved by a liturgy using music that appeals to the "lowest common denominator"--when did Catholics become so elitist, btw--and have even been inspired by mariachis and a gospel mass. May seem common to you, but the pews were full. At least we weren't chanting to high-brow music alone.
But I really love "On Eagle's Wings" and "Be Not Afraid". :-)
Many of these songs are actually based on Psalms (!), so I'm not sure whether the schlocky lyrics criticism is appropriately, unless one feels that way about the source material as well. :-)
On a more serious note, Erin says something that I have to rebut: "It is neither necessary nor desirable to alter the Church's liturgy to pander to those who don't ordinarily go to church."
My understanding of the Church's history may be flawed, but I was taught that certain feast days and saints days were thoughtfully selected to symbolically "align" with festivals of the religions that Christianity was supplanting (eg. Christmas and the winter solstice). I don't feel that, if this is true, it de-legitimizes Christianity at all. I see it rather as proof that the Fathers of the Church were good leaders and creative in finding ways to assimilate more people into the faith.
If we can accept that the Fathers of the Church found it suitable to employ this creativity around feast days, is it really that terrible for the Church to continue making attempts (admittedly some maybe more successful than others) to use the creativity of the faithful and its leadership in finding new ways to reach people?
In different ways, maybe, and certainly different levels of artistry, but is it really that much harder to find God in "Kumbaya"? This comes, btw, from a music lover who truly believes that the connection between God and man was working pretty transparently when Handel wrote the music for "Messiah".
Frankly...
It ain't the job of the Church to be relevant or make herself relevant. It is our job to order our lives around what the Church is. In other words, if the Church isn't relevant the way she is and always has been, the fault is with us, not with the Church. It is not the job of Christianity, in other words, to change with the times. Otherwise, we tend to confuse the zeitgeist with God, and vice versa.
Being Orthodox, let me tell you, it doesn't get much more irrelevant than that. Last night our parish kicked off catechism with a proskomedia service in front of the iconostasis (I attended so I could be there with a couple of godchildren-to-be), vesting and all, and if the vesting service alone doesn't make it something that has really next to nothing to do with today's world, I don't know what would. Not only that, but the preparation of the bread is such a far cry from getting pre-packaged wafers out of their shrinkwrapping or, heaven help us, the automatic communion dispensers (see here: http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/newsletter/2001/aug10.html) that surely a lot of people would just ask themselves, "What's the point?"
On the other hand, that is the whole point--the faith, and our practice of it, isn't tied to the whims of the present day.
Having said that--I wish Pope Benedict XVI the best of luck with this effort and the overall implementation of the spirit of Summorum Pontificum, but I fear many parishes, particularly in the US, will simply ignore him. Music is one of those funny things where, particularly in American culture, most people don't want to be told what's good and bad. They want what they like--or more to the point, they want that with which they're comfortable and familiar, and those two criteria trump all else. Liturgical function, appropriateness, and how it fits in with the received tradition is secondary to how it makes people feel.
And before anybody says anything, I'll be the first to say that it's not just Catholicism or even Protestantism by any means. When I first became Orthodox, I joked that it was comforting to have the terms of the musical debate shift from "contemporary vs. traditional" to "Russian vs. Byzantine". Little did I know, however, that that can be a rather bitter divide. I hear people complain in my own parish about this or that setting of a hymn not being used anymore, and when it's explained to them that those aren't (and never have been) approved settings and/or translations in our archdiocese (I'm the choir director), I often get this look of shock and a reply that amounts to, "Well, surely that doesn't apply to us?" We tend to think like congregationalists in this country, even if we in theory have bishops. Heck, even many bishops tend to think like congregationalists. It's part of what some wags mean when they say a culturally American Orthodox Church can't exist, because America is culturally Protestant through and through.
Richard
As a proudly "unchurched" person, I don't care what you're listening to in on Sunday. But an outsider's perspective might be helpful.
I agree that you don't want to pander to the lowest common musical denominator.
But, Erin and others, I won't subscribe to the idea that seems to hide behind your posts: that the best music ever written was written 300 years ago; that the human race will never match that accomplishment nor produce anything of even remotely comparable aesthetic value; that we must sing the same songs in the same way forever and ever. With respect, what a depressing view.
And yet, very fitting for this crowd -- the past is to be revered and reclaimed; the present and the future are degraded and aesthetically barren.
Also, this is elitism pure and simple. The music of classical composers enjoys its status today not necessarily on aesthetic grounds, but because its the music of wealthy elites. They run most cultural institutions, so they're able to promote their preferred music and establish it as "good." But I'd rather hear music that was intended to be accessible and personal, even it it occasionally veers into folky treacle.
I've got a soft spot in my heart for the kind of folky, acoustic guitar church music of my youth. Perhaps it's just nostalgia. Or maybe it's because the woman who played guitar in my church was really hot.
One more thing...
You do realize musical taste is relative [...]
But taste doesn't really have anything to do with it. There are codified norms and expectations, are there not? Papal encyclicals, conciliar documents and whatnot stating that certain forms are more fitting to liturgical celebration than others? This is about obedience to those norms and expectations, not about taste. Taste is an individual thing, which has nothing to do with liturgical practice, the very word "liturgical" explicitly stating that what's happening is communal worship, not individual expression of likes and dislikes. Fine, said documents provide for allowances made for pastoral need, but by definition, allowances should be exceptional and not the rule, yes?
I may not like broccoli, but I'm glad my mother taught me to eat it.
Richard
But, Erin and others, I won't subscribe to the idea that seems to hide behind your posts: that the best music ever written was written 300 years ago; that the human race will never match that accomplishment nor produce anything of even remotely comparable aesthetic value; that we must sing the same songs in the same way forever and ever. With respect, what a depressing view.
Agreed. Good thing that isn't what we're arguing. Rather, the point is, there's a received tradition of faith and practice. That tradition is to be "held fast" to. Something either is in continuity with that tradition or it is not (see what the current pope has to say about the "hermeneutic of continuity" vs. "hermeneutic of rupture"). Something doesn't have to be written 300 years ago to fit in with that tradition, and something doesn't have to be written today in order to be absolutely unfitting.
There's lots going on here; we don't train church singers the way we used to, we don't train composers the way we used to, we don't EMPLOY singers and composers the way we used to, we don't build churches (or buildings in general) using the same acoustic standards we used to, and the thing is, we don't have to, thanks to the handy-dandy microphone. If congregational singing is the point, then that boat has been thoroughly missed--Thomas Day, in _Why Catholics Can't Sing_, suggests that nothing is less conducive to congregational singing than amplification; the voice of the cantor will always be above everybody else's, telling them they need to listen rather than sing. Thus, ironically, in a time of unprecedented literacy, we probably have fewer people around right now who can read a Liber Usualis and know what they're doing than ever before (assuming they can even find a Liber).
Richard
Daniel, this is not at all about high-brow musical elitism. I sing in my parish choir, and some of the modern music we sing is brilliantly written and fits in well with the concepts and structures of sacred music.
Most of it is not--and this is not an accident. Most of this music was written NOT to build on the greatness of the past, to work within the structures and strengths of liturgical music tradition: it was written to reject the past, to turn away from the musical heritage, and to substitute the fleeting, temporary, banal, and shallow for the enduring, timeless, sacred, and deep.
This is the same thing that was done with church architecture, art, catechetics, and even ritual. There was a vision which arose following the Second Vatican Council which saw a total rupture with the past, and the complete re-imagining of "Church" which would be completely new and different from the Church that had existed before. Anything was possible; the Church was being remade according to the ideas of the zeitgeist.
However, this vision was erroneous; taking advantage of the necessary changes of Vatican II, it soon far outstripped anything the Church had intended. Pope Benedict XVI has been extremely clear about the errors of this viewpoint and the necessity to regain much of what was unnecessarily and even wrongly lost in the years immediately following the Council; and the recapturing of sacred music is just one of the many facets of the Pope's plan to reform the reform.
Or, in other words, what Richard Barrett said. :)
Richard, you clearly know way more about the technical and liturgical aspects of music than I do. I don't even know that the Liber Usualis is.
Here's what's bugging me, and it's one of the many, many reasons I gave up church and, frankly, religion, long ago: it's the "received tradition" you mentioned. This idea that all the really important things were decided centuries ago (when obviously that is not the case), and it's our job to bow our heads and accept all of it. It's for the birds.
And now the Buddhist perspective: if a Catholic sings in a church, and nobody is there to hear him, does he make a sound? We'll soon find out.
What's so funny about the "elitist" canard is where the pressure for this awful music comes from. Find the poorest, most illiterate and stinky person in the parish and that will not be the person agitating to hear about awakening from a slumber and building a city of God. Instead it will be a wealthy suburban Boomer who has for some reason identified schlock as the people's music.
For them it's some sort of political thing. Singing bad music is their last chance to stick it to the man, I guess. Which is odd, since they are the man.
Also, Jim, there are those like Mark Shea who argue that the selection of feast days had to do more with the Bible than with pagan festivals, if you examine the writings of the early Church Fathers.
Point is, Catholic tradition is not simply a random, irrelevant accretion of stuff from centuries past. There is an actual theological point to it. This includes the treasury of sacred music that has been written over the centuries, at the center of which is Gregorian Chant, because it is rooted the deepest in liturgical practice from year 0.
I have no opinion on the choice of music for worship services, but I do think this particular blog entry is unfortunately titled.
"For them it's some sort of political thing."
Odd, I find that it's the ones who complain about the contemporary music who have the political motivations. Unhappy since Vatican II, they agitate and agitate, usually focusing on music. The daily mass goers are generally too focused on the spirit to worry about the musical sins of Vatican II. Although, YMMV
Richard, Assistant Village Idiot had a good post yesterday that touches on some of your points. An excerpt:
"We are quite spoiled, all of us in America, in what we expect when we come into church. A small congregation like mine will not sing powerfully and well – by the world’s standards – even if we were devote hours a week to musical training and rehearsal. Yet our ears expect that power and that quality. Few churches, even large ones with well-trained choirs, eschew all amplification. We are concert-trained, and headphone-trained. It gives us the impression, whether we like it or no, that our singing is a poor and weak thing unless we have a great many of us together or electronic amplification. To unconsciously conclude that we are spiritually weak and ineffective hardly seems a stretch.
Singing in worship is now different from nearly all other singing. A hundred years ago, the singing one did at home, church, and school, or at festivals, pubs, and parties was not that different a musical experience, though the choice of music would be different in each. Worship singing did not stand out as qualitatively different. It was just singing. Piano volume and familiarity of the songs covered a lot of ills in all those situations, and there was an important result: people participated much less self-consciously than now. The energetic and pentecostal-style churches hold up a higher level of participation and flat-out gusto, but even with those, cut the power to the amplification sometime and see how suddenly reserved and uncomfortable everyone is.
We have become dependent on quality, amplification, and niche style. We didn’t have to – we have the same genes and the same scriptures as our ancestors – but it is easy to see what a natural result this is. We stood on ladders and now even tall people look like midgets."
No, indeed, we did not have to, and we still don't. Sometimes when I was a kid, my mother would play the piano, and she and I would sing hymns at home just for fun. The whole family would go sing Christmas carols up and down the block on a night a few days before Christmas. (Does anybody do that anymore?) At church, it never occurred to me to do anything other than sing the hymns and canticles with gusto.
Happily, my parish has no amplification of the music, a very good Moeller organ with a brilliant young organist, a talented (if small) choir that knows the traditional Anglican canon cold, and a congregation that likes to sing. No praise band, no cantor, no amplification -- no problem.
Daniel,
I think VII as enumerated in the following articles of SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM got music in liturgy just right. It's just too bad that the people who call themselves influenced by the council have refused to follow its direction:
112. The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art. The main reason for this pre-eminence is that, as sacred song united to the words, it forms a necessary or integral part of the solemn liturgy.
114. The treasure of sacred music is to be preserved and fostered with great care. Choirs must be diligently promoted, especially in cathedral churches; but bishops and other pastors of souls must be at pains to ensure that, whenever the sacred action is to be celebrated with song, the whole body of the faithful may be able to contribute that active participation which is rightly theirs, as laid down in Art. 28 and 30.
116. 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.
But 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, as laid down in Art. 30.
SVS,
It's interesting the gloss that Karl Rahner put on those passages in his VII commentary.
Basically he interpreted those passages as saying that old music should be preserved, but NOT in the new liturgy (which requires an entirely new music), that choirs should ONLY be in cathedrals, and so on. (I get that from Why Catholics Can't Sing, by the way)
This spirit was continued in the US church document Music in Catholic Worship, which says that "the musical settings of the past are usually not helpful models for composing truly liturgical pieces today."
If you're wondering where the disconnect between VII and its full implementation began, you can start there.
The Episcopal Church is way liberal, but still has better aesthetic taste than latter-day American Catholicism. Aesthetics won't save your soul, but they are important.
I'm not sure -- I've been in a number of Episcopal churches with a high degree of aesthetics but a low degree of morals. There's a certain type of creepy focus on aesthetics that often accompanies extreme heterodoxy.
Erin, you should start your own blog (or maybe you already have one and I just don't know about it).
I'd second everything Erin and Richard have written, and I'd like to ask (in the spirit of a beer and pizza style comment and in a generous spirit of friendliness): can't we agree, at the very least, that the music in most hymnals in Catholic churches today really sucks? If nothing else? I mean, c'mon. :) Forget theology, forget churchiness, forget solemnity, forget liturgy, forget the order of service. Can't we just admit that so many of these hymns are just lame lame lame? That it's not about preferring Bach or whomever else or Gregorian Chant? Can't we just admit that, if anything is objective in this crazy world of ours, that this stuff is objectively lame? I mean, really? Who likes On Eagle's Wings?
Tis a Gift?
Really?
Really?
Eating another bite of pizza...now.
I hate these Catholic progressive vs. Catholic trad/conservative arguments, because if you're not on one side, you're assumed to be on the other. There are a lot of, dare I say it, un-Christian assumptions about fellow Catholics in this thread so far.
Yes, much of the contemporary music I've heard in the Catholic Church is quite terrible; some of it is good. Most older music tends to be better. I ascribe this to the same principle that makes people say they prefer "old, classic movies": there was just as much bad stuff in older days, but it's disappeared and the "timeless," good quality movies survived over the years. I have an old novena book with appendix hymnal, and some of those songs--more than half, I'd say--are dreadful in ways that "Gather Us In" could never aspire to. A few are good--like "Come, Holy Ghost, Creator blest"--and they've survived.
It's not all just a matter of taste, anyway. I converted as a teenager from United Methodism, and then drop in hymn quality was staggering, even to my callow youthful ears. Yes, there will always be people who like objectively inferior art. But that liking doesn't render it good.
"I hate these Catholic progressive vs. Catholic trad/conservative arguments, because if you're not on one side, you're assumed to be on the other. There are a lot of, dare I say it, un-Christian assumptions about fellow Catholics in this thread so far."
One assumption is that this thread is about progressive vs. trad.
It's about that lame (_!_) music that sux! Heck-far, gimme Barry Manilow singing Mandy if you must, but for the love of all that's good, get RID of that shinola that gets spewed forth that someone insists is music.
Max,
This discussion is really about music the way family squabbles are really about what TV show to watch. Look, we got only to the third comment before
"Don't look for this crowd to make sense. They want to take the Church back to a (mostly imaginary) state of bliss circa 1950."
Seventh comment: "This is just more traditionalist fetishizing of the past."
Before long: "I may just break out in a Te Deum for the Holy Father. At last the wasteland that has plagued the postconciliar church is being cleaned up."
Yeah, tell me this isn't about drawing the battle lines. A friend of mine who became a Catholic only a few years ago is amazed that people thought they knew her opinions on Vatican 2, Pope Benedict XVI, and kneeling at Mass, from the fact that she likes to hold hands with her fellow parishioners during the Our Father.
The problem isn't guitars or contemporary music. There's nothing wrong with contemporary Christian music per se. I mean, I even like some of it. Even some of the stuff in the Gather hymnal. But a lot of it is crap, just crap. It's just so gawdawful. "Gather Us In" just makes me want to hurl!!! "City of God" likewise. But some of the modern psalm music is quite good, in my opinion. "Eagles Wings" is at least based on Psalm 91 and isn't all that bad.
There's also old fashioned church music which is schlocky, too. I mean, really, "Mary we crown thee with blossoms today" that's pretty schlocky too.
Pretty much I find if one avoids Haugen and Haas, one will avoid 90% of the crappy modern church music that is out there.
She holds HANDS during the Our Father?!?!
Sheesh.
Does she hold hands AND assume the Orans posture at the same time too? Oh man, I hate that.
She was a Protestant charismatic, and her parish is largely Hispanic, which (around here at least) generally means heavily influenced by the charismatic movement. So there's lots of hand-holding, arm-lifting, etc.: things that drive me nuts, too, but which she's used to and which are usual in her parish. It doesn't make her a tradition-hater, or in any way place her on one "side" of the endless internecine Catholic squabbles: but people feel free to assume it does.
Frankly I don't mind if someone else wants to hold hands with a willing pewmate, or lift up their arms, or whatever--though I did resent being instructed by a priest once that we *must* all hold hands with out neighbors, and when I didn't, the guy next to me refused my hand at the Sign of Peace.
Why do you hate it, if nobody's forcing you? Haven't you noticed that there are people on this thread prepared to hate fellow Catholics as a crowd of tradition fetishizers bamboozled by an imaginary past, just because they strongly dislike most of the contemporary hymnody they encounter at Mass? Doesn't your reaction to her preference for holding hands in a parish that does that seem a little overly intense?
My favorite Sunday Mass is the early one with no singing at all; it's qiuet, reflective. I know others like the singing. I just think it's a distraction. To each his own. Either way, it seems to be small beer. Though some of the folk mass stuff gets pretty annoying, though not as annoying as when parish music directors think the Mass is about them rather than Christ.
I suppose if the churches were to replace the contemporary songs with really beautiful and well-executed Gregorian chant or Bach chorales, I might be a little more excited about this. However, given the resources most parishes have these days, I'm not sure that replacing off-key singing out of the contemporary hymnal with off-key singing from the traditional hymnal is any big news. At least some of the contemporary songs are kind of catchy.
Actually, American parishes have it good, all considering. When I was in South Asia, the hymns there in the Catholic churches tended to be tuneless dirges that seemed like they had been left over from the Victorian era of the British Raj, only now with keyboard accompaniment. And that's not mentioning the Christmas service I went to where the order of the mass was sung to the tune of well-known Christmas carols. You do *not* sing "Kyrie Eleison" to the tune of "O come all ye faithful." No no no.
"Why do you hate it, if nobody's forcing you?"
Who sez nobody's forcing me? I had a lady damn near tear of my arm once grabbing my hand and lifting it up in the air. I TRIED to resist, but as the Borg say, it was futile. So I just let my arm hang limp which forced her to hold it up herself. [snort]
Oh, and don't even get me started on the Sign O' Peach (SOP). Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament offered up on the altar, and everybody turns their focus from the altar to a round of glad hand and clutch butt.
Sheesh.
"But, Erin and others, I won't subscribe to the idea that seems to hide behind your posts: that the best music ever written was written 300 years ago; that the human race will never match that accomplishment nor produce anything of even remotely comparable aesthetic value". Timbo
You don't subscribe to it, but it's nonetheless true. BTW, "Gregorian chant was organized, codified, and notated mainly in the Frankish lands of western and central Europe during the 9th and 10th centuries, with later additions and redactions, but the texts and many of the melodies have antecedents going back several centuries earlier." Wikipedia.
The human race, Timbo, will never match that accomplishment. That's because Gregorian chant's inestimable aesthetic value is surpassed by the value of its function--to facilitate prayer and meditation. You will never again see its equal in Mass accompaniment.
That said, I'll bet Erin and others of our ilk will join me in my opinion that Silent Night, played professionally and softly on an acoustic guitar after Communion at Christmas Eve Mass, is hard to beat.
Dylan?! Would that we were singing Dylan instead of that Glory and Praise drivel. A few verses of "Gather Us In" makes me need to run home and listen to "Idiot Wind" just to clear my mind.
MJ
Hello! I am working musician (played on the Vegas Strip, in NYC; did background strings for CDs; and recently returned from an EU/UK tour, also doing background strings for a pop musician). During my doctorate (which is in classical performance) I played accompaniment to the "Catholic crap music" y'all are bashing, each week at Mass for the 3 years I was at school.
In my humble opinion, you guys are pretty harsh! It's not just Te Deum vs Tedium! Those contemporary-type songs can sound pretty good, if the people performing know what they're doing. Our church pianist was *awesome* and I truly believe we did justice to what you consider "crap," and made it worship.
The church I wish I could love (awesome homilies) exhibits what turns the contemporary stuff into a slovenly mess. Everything that Erin criticized in her post was true! Instead of mocking them, though, I tried to deconstruct the situation.
This "easy listening" 70s type of music (from before I was even born) is notoriously difficult to translate to a congregational format. There is no "hook" for people to latch on to.
I mean, you need to have a simple and catchy melody (in an amenable "open" key) using basic chords and an unstoppable rhythm. The contemporary stuff is more "free" in regards to rhythm and uses keys that are not idiomatic. That makes it hard to follow and harder to pick up the melody. (And using a guitar to lead doesn't help tighten up the rhythm and pitch of a large ensemble.) "Easy listening" actually makes for difficult perfomance.
So the poor congregation is behind the 8-ball. Plus, no prior rehearsal, no choice in the songs, stuck with some guy with an out-of-tune guitar, singing easy-listening from 70s. No wonder they're torked off!
Palestrina, Lassus, Byrd, Tallis = complete awesomenesss. But in those days, there were totally different parameters. They had the highest-trained singers and musicians at their disposal, plus lots of rehearsal. That was their JOB! (And the congregation did not sing along, at least from what I remember in Ren. Music History ;) ) That's a luxurious perspective, compared to today's composers.
So, I don't think Haugen & Co. are anti-Papists thinking, Hmm, how can we write crap songs that will destroy the Mass and make people hate on us? They were from a different generation (the one that dug Barry Manilow), trying to cross-over to a genre that just isn't a good match for a congregation.
Thanks for considering my perspective,
Violachick
Violachick, I appreciate your perspective. Much of what you say is true; however, one problem is that this stuff is *supposed* to be written for congregational singing!
Our parish has a relatively small choir (and the women outnumber the men about 2 to 1, as usual). But we, mainly untrained, some of whom can't even sight read, can learn a bit of Bach on Wednesday and sing it in four-part harmony on Sunday. Why? Since you're a professional you probably can say it better than I can; my amateur perspective is that Bach (and Faure and Bruckner and Mozart...) follow some musical rules that go back in time far beyond anything we even know, consciously. The harmonies seem to come before we've even tried to decipher the music; it's as if, somehow, even those of us who have no formal musical education whatsoever can grasp the "shape" of the music, see where it's going before we even know it, and blend our voices with confidence and even, sometimes, grace.
One of the hymns scheduled for Sunday is a dreadful modern piece I'm completely unfamiliar with (after rehearsal, no less!). The rhythm is syncopated, the melody line--such as it is--wanders all over the page, and even though it's sung in unison we're not singing all together, as we struggle to keep up with a constantly changing tempo and a tune we simply can't remember. As I said, we're supposed to sing it Sunday, and we will, somehow. But the congregation will not. They won't even try. Why should they? If there is a "shape" to this music it's lodged firmly in the mind of its creator, not unlike the "shape" of a modern art sculpture. Even if we could sing it perfectly most of the congregation would be completely unaware of it, as they have no way to grasp what the piece is supposed to be doing in the first place; neither do we.
And the problem with that is that such music ends up *intruding* on the liturgy instead of unobtrusively aiding the purpose of the liturgy, which is the worship of God. (It's sad; the only time anyone thinks of God during such a piece is to murmur gladly, "Thank God that's over!) It's not the fault of those who struggle to present such pieces and fail; it's something inherent in the music, which with all its carefully crafted cacophony is saying "Look at me!"
But music at Mass should be seeping into the souls of every hearer and whispering, "Look at Him." If it does not, then it should not be sung, not even if Bach wrote it.
Boy, is this a fun thread.
Let me just throw in this: it's not a traditional vs. progressive thing. That's basically over Catholic teachings on sex. This is about the Eucharist, not Holy Orders or Marriage.
Which is why you find Andrew Sullivan on Benedict XVI's side on music, and plenty of Charismatic Catholics on the side of guitars and tambourines.
For a completely different, non-Roman Catholic perspective, I wonder if we Orthodox don't have these type of arguments because a big chunk of us still speak Greek and we know that "liturgy" doesn't translate to "worship", but rather to "common work"? If its work, (and sometimes its really hard and boring work, even if at other times its an awesome experience) then it clearly isn't about what we may like or dislike. It's about rendering our common servie to God. If we don't like the music, so what? You don't have to like work, you just have to do it.
MJ - Dylan?! Would that we were singing Dylan instead of that Glory and Praise drivel. A few verses of "Gather Us In" makes me need to run home and listen to "Idiot Wind"
Amen, brother.
The number of comments on this thread shows how engaged people become on issues of aesthetics in a worship setting -- especially music.
This presents an opportunity -- and the motivation -- to write about my own experience and thoughts regarding liturgy. Yes, I think I will do that. But not here in Rod's comments. I'll do so on my own weblog and then post the link to this thread, if Rod permits.
Background: I was raised in a small, rural town in Illinois, attending a Presbyterian church in an even smaller nearby town until I moved away after high school. Thus protestant hymnody (as heard in rural Illinois) was infused into my bones.
I became a Roman Catholic in my 20's and later spent two years attending a rural Indiana seminary college run by a large Benedictine community. The attitude toward liturgy and liturgical aesthetics of these monks were thus injected into my spiritual veins. This included more than organ and choir music: piano, guitar, flute and trumpet were commonly used. The human voice was primary. And the acoustics of the worship spaces was as great an influence as anything else.
Skipping forward to 1975, I began an eleven year stint as music director (Minister of Music, officially) in a reasonably large and prosperous Catholic parish in Dallas, Texas (urban, but not suburban). By the time I left that position, I had also been given the responsibility of 'directing' all parish liturgy.
In 1975 the battle (aka 'total nuclear war') between musical traditionalists and those of every other viewpoint was in full swing, with both sides ready to surge their troops as needed!
Quite-long-story very, very short: Over time, Sunday by Sunday, I won over a majority of the parish (I think) to supporting a Sunday liturgy based on a philosophy/theology of liturgy formed by my own study, background and experience and week-by-week adaptation to the 'here and now' of an urban Catholic parish. (That's a terrible sentence, but you get the idea.)
Erin's expressed very well that there's something in Bach (and in Handel, as another example), where one can almost intuit where the music is going to go even as one is in wonder at where one is being transported. Nicely said, Erin.
That said, I cannot agree completely on the lack of merit in modern music. Richard Strauss' 4 Last Songs, Wagner's Prelude to the 3rd act of "Tristan und Isolde" -- this is rapturous music that challenges the ear in a way the Baroque does not, but it takes me to thrilling strange places my own ear would never have found itself. I do a lot of my best meditation to the 4th of the 4 Last Songs. Suggest music lovers not familiar with that work check it out, particularly the Jessye Norman recording if you can find it.
My final thought on this topic: there is a lot of bitterness and sneering being expressed toward these hymns, beyond just a mere statement of dislike. Hope these resentments don't carry over to the people that like the music you hate so much, and hope they will be lifted from you and don't follow you to church on Sundays. Peace.
You guys are making me glad I'm a Protestant! I sing in the choir at a very old, very beautiful Presbyterian church in downtown Beaufort, SC. Tomorrow we will be doing an obscure but lovely Bach piece for the anthem. Next week we're singing Schubert's "Ave Maria" in four parts at the funeral of a long-time choir member. Our hymns each week are typically of the "Ode to Joy"/"How Firm a Foundation" variety. In between, we sing the Doxology and the Gloria Patria. At Christmas, we will sing Handel's "Messiah," and at Easter, DuBoise's "Seven Last Words." I grew up in the Methodist Church, and the music was almost identical. I never get tired of singing it, and it always brings me closer to God.
Inconveniently for that point of view, those of us who were actually there in 1950 testify that everything was not marvelous then. However, we're old now (and hence unreliable) and better yet, we'll be gone soon, so the younger people will be able to indulge their fantasies without limit.
Gee, Susan, I guess my parents and many of their friends and contemporaries of my acquaintance must all be figments of my imagination then, because they were all there in 1950 and would go back in a heartbeat.
Gregorian Chant, Josquin's Ave Maria, Byrd's Justorum Animae, Mozart's Ave Verum Corpus, any chorale by Bach - these are the masterpieces church goers should hear. Their own 1000-year legacy (as well as stealing from that famous Lutheran).
Contrary to what was said earlier, it doesn't take only professional singers. The person of average intelligence is probably a lot smarter than the typical chorister that William Byrd or Thomas Tallis had to work with, at a time when only a few were literate. What is needed is an investment in seriousness.
Granted, in won't prevent all the choir in-fighting, but still ...
Jim: You must hear Karita Mattila sing Im Abendrot. :)
Seeing people invoke the aesthetics of the Episcopal Church in this discussion made me laugh. I grew up Episcopalian, and one of the things I could count on every Sunday was my father turning to me in the pew to express his opinion that the hymn we had just sung was 'the tune the old cow died to.' As he grew deafer this comment grew louder, and became a source of amusement to those around us.
I never liked having my worship disturbed by it, though, and when I read the bit in Screwtape Letters about the old woman who doesn't think she is a glutton because all she wants is a *well-made* cup of tea and a teensy bit of *really crisp* toast, I immediately connected the two. I make it a spiritual discipline to not let my own preferences about worship style interfere with what I am there to do. (Not that this makes me an easygoing congregant - I make up for it in letting my personal theology get in the way). I've been in churches that hugged, danced, held hands, made arcane ritual or non-ritual gestures at unexpected moments, anointed one another with oil, passed around lighted candles, and sang everything under the sun, and had good worship experiences in all of them; it is actually enjoyable to stop thinking about what I like and why I like it, and just react to what's going on around me.
As for 'Gather Us In,' I heard it for the first time at a nun's funeral this summer and thought it was great. But any time I get to sing with the School Sisters in their chapel, it is a treat - they are such good singers, and the acoustics are tremendous.
Is that the one that goes "Gather us in, the lost and forsaken, Gather us in, the blind and the lame"? I'm not Catholic, so I'm not sure. All I know is that my choir sang part of what I THINK must be the same song as an entroit for a month of Sundays recently. Our choir director, who grew up Methodist, told us to "think of Gordon Lightfoot" while we sang it. He made a joke that the song had "survived the great folk scare of the 60s." It was VERY different from what we usually sing, but I actually kind of liked it. It's nice to mix it up now and then!
I'm with Pat Browne. Chill out, people. Ya'll are just too fussy. If a piece of music is garbage like you say, it won't last. Every age has had more than its share of the inane, the overly trendy, and the fluffy, and somehow we've survived. I will admit to a personal antipathy to "Gather Us In," but it only lasts a few minutes, and then we go on. It's hard for me to imagine that there aren't a lot of opportunities for worship being missed what with all this critiquing going on. But then, I'm just a low Protestant preacher, and probably just don't get what all the kerfluffle is about. But, then again, I can't for the life of me imagine why I would want to. Give me my
aesthetically suspect but utterly sincere community of faith over the sort of liturgical constipation on evidence on this thread any day (especially Sunday!) of the week
All of this makes me glad I'm Jewish, though heaven knows we have our own disputes about liturgical music. (Could be worse--the dispute among the Muslims, after all, is about whether to HAVE liturgical music, or any other kind!) But in college I was a professional chorister in the college chapel as well as a member of the choral society, and became intimately acquainted with church music beginning with Gregorian and working all the way through Britten and Vaughan Williams. I haven't paid much attention to church music since the early '60s, except at my father's funeral in 1989, when I took responsibility for choosing the music on the theory that it was the only thing a nice Jewish girl with a good musical background was qualified to do in a Catholic funeral. Fortunately, the organist had no problem with "Bist Du Bei Mir" or "For All the Saints." And a couple of years ago I did a speaking gig at a local Catholic church in a Hispanic neighborhood, where their closing hymn turned out to be a Spanish translation of the old Yiddish favorite, "Heveinu Shalom Aleichem" ("Paz en el mundo, queremos paz en el mundo...") sung with great vigor. Very spirited.
But I think what is really going on here is just dueling nostalgias, and people's usual lamentable habit of assuming that anybody whose taste differs from mine simply HAS no taste. Give each other a break, folks. I've read that our taste in music (whether classical or popular, religious or secular) is imprinted in our 20s and never really changes after that, for reasons having to do with available leisure time and galloping hormones. So we are, musically, the people we have been formed to be, and we need to cut each other some slack.
Hey Erin--
I really liked what you expressed so beautifully about Bach! The word I think you are looking for, to describe the order and "knowingness" in his music is "form" (or "structure.") Bach was such a genius at this!
If you take apart and analyze any of Bach's works, they are perfectly proportioned --like a great work of architechture or the Fibonacci Sequence-- yet adhering to all the "rules" of harmony, voice-leading, structure, and form.
Musical form is analogous to writing. There are "rules" to follow; grammar, punctuation, organization, etc. Some people obey this rules, but their writing is still as dry as dust. Some people throw the rules out. Sometimes it works (e.e. cummings, James Joyce), sometimes it doesn't. (It sounds like that piece your choir is working on is the musical equivalent of this!)
Bach was so cool because he obeyed the rules *and* it was so amazingly beautiful. He was the perfection of form and substance. Interestingly, during his life he wasn't any kind of a rock-star virtuoso or even recognized for his genius, but rather, he was a humble Lutheran organist who gave all the glory to God. Maybe that's why his music speaks to us. Anyway, good luck tomorrow! :)
Hi Scott in PA--
You are so right: People today are much more literate and educated than folks in the Renaissance. But singing is much less a part of today's culture than back then, I think.
I see a lot of CD-listening, music-sharing, and i-Podding, but I don't see much DIY today. My dad told me that people used to gather around a piano and sing for entertainment, but I don't see many families doing this today. It was part of the culture and that kept people's skills up to task. It would be awesome if that changed and choirs instigated a Renaissance revival. :)
Sorry for prolonging the thread. I promise I'm done!
Violachick
Don't be sorry. What you say is great. I'm learning a lot -- keep it up!
Hey, Violachick.
JS Bach did not so much obey the rules as write the music that we derived the rules from. In composition we learn rules so that we know when and why we want to break them.
Also, education per se has little to do with this -- it's PRACTICE and experience that is more significant. Eleventh century peasants probably sang together MUCH more often than we educated of the twenty-first. As you say, it was more integral to the culture.
One aspect a discussion like this tends to ignore is historical awareness. Only in the 20th century did we begin to discover more about how early christians conducted their worship. However, popular discussion tends to start with the status quo of a much later date -- the middle ages or trent.
So who actually acts in the liturgy? (A good answer would be the church.) One of the contrasts seen in liturgical theology and style is the concept of church: is it seen primarily (not excusively!) as a hierarchy of the ordained placed over the 'faithful' or as a people called by god out of whom some are ordained to specific ministries?
The hierarchical style of liturgy predominates from the late first millenium until vatican ii. The people-of-god style that was brought back after vatican ii is closer to how the early christians experienced liturgy. Liturgy, after all, is the 'work of the people'.
That's one reason that pre-vatican ii catholics 'hear mass' while many post conciliar catholics 'celebrate eucharist'. NEITHER IS WRONG, but different aspects of tradition dominate in different eras. This is a really rich tradition, folks.
Violachick, thanks! That explains exactly what I was "feeling" from a completely untrained perspective.
I love your writing analogy, too! A sister of mine likes to say that you can't have eloquence without grammar--meaning, of course, that while it's not impossible to throw aside the rules like Joyce or cummings you have to learn the rules in order to abandon them for emphasis or effect. Some modern liturgical composers seem to have learned the rules and thus to know when to suspend them, creating pieces that really are lovely; but far too many of them seem to have rejected the rules as unnecessary from the outset, the way that certain church architects rejected not merely the forms but also the principles of church architecture because their underlying vision of what "Church" is has little to nothing in common with the vision of the past.
This does matter. If your vision of "Church" is a place where the highest elements of art and architecture blend in a space where the principle function is the worship of God, you are going to end up with soaring lines, majestic structure, and an orientation of the congregation toward the high altar where worship becomes sacrifice on behalf of all present. But if your vision of "Church" is as a gathering space where the assembly is as much a part of the focus as the altar "table" the "presider's" chair, the lectern, etc. you're going to get a church where the congregation is split into thirds or fourths, looking at each other and at the geometric lines of the unadorned walls as often as they look toward the altar of sacrifice--especially when that altar resembles a rather nice coffee table, just a bit too tall for the purpose of serving coffee.
In the first church, true sacred music will be as soaring, majestic, and focused on the worship of God as the architecture is. In the second church, the music becomes another way for the congregation to focus on each other and on themselves, to sing about their "journey" or their "community" or some other self-focused theme, set to tunes appropriate for a bank lobby or coffee shop, both of which are faintly echoed in the architecture.
This isn't about elitism or snobbery or preferring things that are old just because they are old. This is about vision; and unfortunately the vision of what "Church" is has been sadly impoverished in the Roman Catholic Church over the last half-century or so.
Go into a large cathedral with choir stalls. Walk up to the 'communion rail'. The general arrangement in front of you was one of the primary original designs after christianity went public and moved into the roman basilicas. People on each side of the table with a prominant place for ministers.
As the eucharist and other liturgies became the province of the educated clergy who spoke and understood latin, the 'faithful' were relegated to spectating from the area behind you as you stand at the communion rail.
This was in the western church. I'm not familiar with the east.
So early christians did face each other, they were active doers of the liturgy together with their ministers and christian altars began as tables -- not as sacrificial stones.
As I said, christian liturgical history provides a much richer set of traditions than some are even aware of.
It's true that Christian liturgical history provides a rich set of traditions, with many interesting origins.
Such as Justin Martyr's famous description of the liturgy, written sometime before his death in 164 A.D., the Apostolic Constitutions, the earliest know use of Latin rather than Greek in the Mass (just before 200 A.D., if I recall correctly), the Antiochene liturgy (some of which reaches back to before 400 A.D.), and the pre-Tridentine Western form of the Mass, for instance.
Interestingly, all of these early forms appear to have distinguished between the clergy and the laity, including Justin Martyr's mention that deacons distributed the Eucharist to the people (who were clearly not reclining around the "table" helping themselves, so to speak). Even though the very earliest liturgies may be lost in time, the Church's clear traditions, building on what has gone before, have not in any way changed the essential sacrificial character of the Mass, nor the sacred and mystical understanding of the Eucharist. It is unfortunate that so many have seized upon what little is known about the early days of the Church in an attempt to sever the liturgy from its ancient and venerable roots, of which the Cathedral is a clearer and more accurate representation than the coffee-house.
I think what I love most about this blog is the depth of knowledge so many people bring the discussion (that means you Erin and Chuck). I am humbled and it makes me want to learn more. For once, I keep my remarks brief and hopefully to the point. In gratitude.
Re: matters of taste--I recall having seen a letter from someone who found Gustav Holst's "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence" "spooky" and didn't like it for that reason.
Interesting that 'so many' are accused of that. I'm not sure exactly who these people are, but I hereby condemn (anathema!) anyone who says that the coffee-house 'is a clearer and more accurate representation' of liturgical roots than is the cathedral. (Didn't earliest roman christians more likely meet in private homes? -- coffee houses being so public, you know.)
I'm constantly amazed on how often I see arguments that employ straw-man reasoning. I've tried to adopt this approach: don't characterize another person's argument; focus on making my own and ask clarifying questions. I think this yields a more informative discussion. (Admittedly, I sometimes fail.)
Chuck, no straw man was intended. Unless I'm greatly mistaken, though, there is very little primary source evidence that describes in much detail the very earliest liturgies. We can extrapolate certain things from Scripture, particularly various passages in the epistles, but beyond that there's precious little actually written about the liturgy prior to Justin Martyr's famous description. A handful of scant references from documents of dubious antiquity or authorship isn't sufficient to make sweeping claims about what an early liturgy was like.
So when you say, "So early christians did face each other, they were active doers of the liturgy together with their ministers and christian altars began as tables -- not as sacrificial stones." I have to wonder what your source for this claim is, since what little we know of liturgies from some one to three hundred years after the Resurrection would seem to contradict such a claim, as would the slow organic development of the liturgy over centuries which never seems to have made an abrupt or radical departure from the liturgical tradition of the past (recent events excepted).
Just to be clear, I didn't actually say that many people are making the claim that a coffee-house represents a clearer link with tradition than a Cathedral; just that rather a lot of people in the recent past seemed to have been rather imaginative in coming up with what they think early liturgies must have been like, and then using this creative imagination to jettison whatever aspects of liturgical tradition they didn't particularly appreciate. The end result has been Vosko-esque coffee-house-druidic-temple-bank-lobby (etc.) churches with nothing particularly Catholic about them, and music whose very formlessness echoes the formless emptiness of the spaces.
Lest you think I'm merely engaging in creative imagination of my own, here is a quote from Richard Vosko's website. I apologize for the length but as linking to things is still an issue this is my only option:
"Philosophy"
"Where we worship shapes our prayer and how we pray shapes the way in which we live. Using metaphorical equations to design the worship arena my hope in any project is that the congregation will be transfigured by the very space it is helping to create or transform. I believe that places for worship become sacred when the celebrations of life-cycle events occur there. In this sense the building is designed primarily to house the assembly and its worship of God. It is not an object of devotion by itself nor is it a temple to honor the deity. The fundamental blueprint for the building is found in the memories and hopes of the community. This is why participation of the congregation in the building or renovation journey is extremely important."
"The time honored ingredients of a worthy place for worship include stories of faith, pilgrimage pathways, transforming thresholds, intimate settings for personal prayer, art work that prompts works of justice and seating plans that engage the community in the public rituals. To evoke a sense of the sacred the building must be designed with attention to detail, scale, proportion, materials, color, illumination and acoustics. All art and furnishings must be of the highest caliber afforded by the community. Sensitivity to ecological and economical factors cannot be overlooked."
"Memory and imagination are the main tools in any worship space project."
Given that Richard Vosko's influence in contemporary Catholic church design has been very, very strong, it's discouraging to notice how greatly his stated philosophy differs from the whole idea of sacred architecture as it existed in the past. It would take me a long time to go through and deconstruct the ideas in this lengthy quote and show point by point how they are different from principles of Catholic architecture, but at the very least I can note once again that the whole focus is on the gathered assembly and its acts of worship; God (or, as Vosko puts it, "the deity") is almost an afterthought.
After 45 minutes writing, I lost it all by googling a spelling without switching browser pages. I'm now in wordpad and will cut and paste when I'm done. (grrrrr).
Erin -- I don't claim direct expertise on these things and it's been years since I had the collection of journals and publications at my fingertips. (I'm now a software developer.) Those I found most infulential on my thinking were monks of st. meinrad archabbey where I studied for two years. I picked up a lot by osmosis and lectures and later continued to relish writings of Aden Kavanaugh and Nathan Mitchell, to name two.
So I'll simply have to ask that you not think I'm making all this up out of thin air. However, I have no quarrel with your being skeptical per se.
When I began my parish work in 1975 I had spent four years immersed in monastic liturgies, so I saw my challenge to adapt what I had learned to a parish's sunday liturgies. I could never be accused of being a hidebound traditionalist, but also did not pursue novelty for it's own sake or (the term of that decade) relevant liturgies. (We termed those who wanted to be relevant like that as "father ken's and sister barbie's"!)
I came to see my challenge as how to draw on the best of tradition (including that of other christian denominations because of their experience with the vernacular) and the best of contemporary arts so that the worshipper would be free to open their hearts to loving god and neighbor. (Personally, I like that kind of definition better than "to glorfy god", which seems quite vague to me.)
So was eucharistic practice uniform in the early years after constantine's 'conversion'. Very likely not. But I have never heard a liturgist claim that early practice was for the presbyter to pray inaudibly while facing away from the assembled -- or that those assembled had no role other than as observers. I have heard them describe what I did previously as one common setting, without claiming it was the only one.
The points were: the assembled had an active role (differing from that of ministers) and those present were not discouraged from facing one another.
Yes, norms did evolve. And eventually the assembled had no role other than observer/prayers, their earlier functions being carried out by lesser clergy. (That's when other devotions began to evolve I believe. People like having no activity to call their own.)
So, remaining as skeptical as you wish, what do you think is important in all this? For example, previously I described two models of church. Do you prefer one over the other? Do you reject one? Do you think there is an advantage in recognizing that both are 'traditional'?
Do you participate as layman, clergy, musician, academic?
Once again I return from parts unknown and unwired to find history repeating itself in my absence. My first reaction is, wow, what a bunch of sourpusses. Okay, to revise that flip comment just slightly--I do appreciate ChuckDFW's comments, and in fact, the comments of all who have posted to talk about what they love and enjoy. But, for some of the rest of you, jeez--music is supposed to be FUN. Yes! People started making music because they enjoyed it! It made them happy, it relieved their feelings of grief, it helped them remember great stories and enabled them to make fun of those who had wronged them. It's one of the stupefying achievements of the Church that it has turned music into a dutiful doctrinal statement to be warred over in theoretical terms by dogmatic curmudgeons of all stripes. Bah, I say. If y'all (on any side of this question) are so smart, quit argufying and write something people want to listen to! Go on, I dare ya! If all you can do is lecture me about what I OUGHT to like, I shall stick my fingers in my ears to avoid hearing the giant sucking sound of some diabolical principles sucking all the fun out of the known universe.
Chuck, I'm just a member of the laity, and not a particularly good one.
But when I go to Church, I go to worship God by entering into the highest and best form of prayer possible to man. I don't go to be affirmed, gathered, celebrated, or applauded. I'm not there to share stories of my journey or to experience "life-cycle events." I wouldn't care about a "pilgrimage pathway" unless I tripped and fell on one; ditto for "transforming thresholds" whatever those might be. I admire Church artwork that reminds me visibly of God, His Crucified Son, His angels and saints, and similar works, while I haven't much patience for art that's supposed to "prompt me to works of justice" unless the works in question involve the removal of that artwork in favor of something that actually uplifts the heart, mind, and soul to make me aware that I am in the presence of God.
So yes, I do reject what I deeply and sincerely believe to be a false model of "Church" that sees it primarily as a human-centered space for various psycho/social activities to occur, within the context of a collection of stories and prayers that are seen as outdated and not sufficiently humanistic in their focus, requiring them to be rewritten to be "relevant" to our incredibly egotistical age, which is so addicted to the practice of navel-gazing that we want to continue this activity in our so-called "worship spaces." I don't need to go to Church every Sunday for such silliness; I could watch daytime television talk shows if all I cared about was being told endlessly how special I am and how special we are and how special it is to be special in our specialness.
Church is something greater, grander, higher than that. It is our encounter with God, first and foremost. It is the way we approach Him for the fourfold purpose of adoration, thanksgiving, petition, and propitiation; it is the way He comes to us, retaining only the appearance of bread and wine, but none of the substance. Nourished by His Body and Blood we become one, not in the false unity of endless talk of "community" but as one in communion with Christ at the Head of His Mystical Body, which we are.
This is what I think is important in all this. This is why I accept one model of Church and reject as false and base the other. The two visions are at odds, and only one will prevail in the end.
Margaret,
Just a shout-out for "Christ, We Do All Adore Thee" in DuBois' Seven Last Words. Is that not perfect simplicity? We used to sing it as the last piece in the three-hour Good Friday service. At Erin says so well, church music should always say, "look at Him" -- and the DuBois does that in a compelling way.
Also, there's SO MUCH great music from prior periods that I hope will be rediscovered as part of where B XVI sees the Catholic church going. I'm listening right now to Vorisek's Mass in B-flat, which was written in Vienna in 1824 or so. It's little known or recorded, but really magnificent (especially the fugue at Cum Sancto Spiritu).
No offense, Chuck, but
Over time, Sunday by Sunday, I won over a majority of the parish (I think) to supporting a Sunday liturgy based on a philosophy/theology of liturgy formed by my own study, background and experience and week-by-week adaptation to the 'here and now' of an urban Catholic parish.
coupled with
I came to see my challenge as how to draw on the best of tradition (including that of other christian denominations because of their experience with the vernacular) and the best of contemporary arts so that the worshipper would be free to open their hearts to loving god and neighbor. (Personally, I like that kind of definition better than "to glorfy god", which seems quite vague to me.)
exmplifies the problem.
Without addressing whether the second quote above fundamentally misapprehends the liturgy, at the very least it evidences a particular prejudice regarding your tastes. While a given liturgist may not apprehend the difference between music that frees the worshipper "to open their hears to loving god and neighbor" and must that glorifies god, but I suspect many of the parishioners educated by such a liturgist do. The desire of a liturgist to "educate" his parishioners into an appreciation of his prejudice is what really causes the fireworks.
The man in the pews finds himself engaging in bizarre, fruity activities while singing banal jingles with semi-literate lyrics and thinks "this is weird" only to be told by some other layman with bad taste that if only he were better educated he would realize that bizarre, fruity, banal, semi-literate, and weird is really what liturgy is all about. Which is a nice double insult. No wonder there is friction on these matters. The liturgist doesn't want to be told that he has bad taste any more than the man in the pews. But the difference is the liturgist can ignore the man in the pews.
Loudon: You're WAY, WAY off about what you say I said. I drew no such distinction.
Let's start over.
You could, for example, ask what my musical or textual criteria I used.
But maybe that's not your objective(?)
Erin: I'm quite at ease with your tastes and preferences. What is the problem with selecting the worship setting that you are comfortable with? Isn't that what you do?
However, I do not accept that the model you reject is identical with either of the models I mentioned. You threw one out and inserted your own.
"This isn't about elitism or snobbery...'
Maybe not, but then why is there so much language that smacks of elitism and snobbery in so many posts, including Rod's initial post..."crap," "schlocky, ill-written lyrically infantile compositions," "objectively lame," "shinola that someone inists is music," "drivel." Combine that with snarky comments about "badly-tuned guitars," being played by members of the generation "that dug Barry Manilow," and all I can say is, some of you must be just so much fun to go to church with.
The above quotes are examples of the language of aesthetics, not the language of theology, and while there may be some valid arguments as to who the proper subject of worship should, in fact, be, let's not kid ourselves about what this argument is primarily about. Its about peole who think they are better than other people patting each other on the back for having such good taste, and wishing they didn't have to deal with folks who have a different idea of what constitutes good music.
Chuck, I've no wish to talk past you, but the only post I see where you discuss two models of church is the one that describes Cathedrals somewhat negatively and then says, "So early christians did face each other, they were active doers of the liturgy together with their ministers and christian altars began as tables -- not as sacrificial stones."
I thought we already covered that; the second model I describe in my post comes from the Richard Vosko philosophy which is his interpretation of what the early Christians did, just as your activities in your parish appear to be based on *your* interpretation of what the early Christians did. And as I pointed out earlier, the problem with this is that we simply don't know exactly what the early Christians did, so if we use "what the early Christians did" as our "worship template" so to speak, then we can do whatever the heck we feel like doing, including liturgical dance, rock-band music, and reorganizing our churches so that the only people who aren't seated in pews where they spend Mass staring at huge groups of other people are the people outside smoking during the completely pointless homily.
So, it seems to me that we have two choices: work with the ancient forms and traditions of liturgy, or make up whatever we like and call it "what the early Christians did." It's not really about "tastes and preferences" at all; that very phrase implies that there's no right or wrong way to "do liturgy," which is a very loaded implication.
If I'm misunderstanding you, perhaps you could explain how you view the two models of "Church" and we could go from there.
MSW, if you really think this conversation is about "...peole who think they are better than other people patting each other on the back for having such good taste, and wishing they didn't have to deal with folks who have a different idea of what constitutes good music..." then please allow me to explain a bit further.
What if, when you went to a baseball game, instead of hearing the usual music come out of the organ, you heard Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor? You'd probably think such music was hideously inappropriate for a ball game, and you'd be right. What if you went to a Rolling Stones concert, only to have them announce that they'd invited John Tesh to play with them and would only be playing his music that night? What if you went to a popular night spot that was blaring "Barney's Greatest Hits" over their speakers instead of their usual beat? What if you took a special person out for a romantic evening at a very expensive and exclusive restaurant, and instead of their usual soft background music they were playing the loudest and most explicit of rap songs?
And what if, should you complain to any of these people about any of these situations, they called you a "music snob" and refused to listen to your objections?
This isn't about snobbery at all. Just as each of the situations I described above deal with the use of music inappropriate for a particular situation/venue/location, so does the conversation about sacred music deal with the problem of music inappropriate for worship. Not everything that is written to be sung or played in a church is automatically appropriate for worship, particularly at Mass. Songs which are lovely when sung at youth group meetings might be terribly out of place at a solemn funeral Mass; and just try telling a bride that she has to process down the aisle to "Gather Us In."
The above quotes are examples of the language of aesthetics, not the language of theology, and while there may be some valid arguments as to who the proper subject of worship should, in fact, be, let's not kid ourselves about what this argument is primarily about. Its about peole who think they are better than other people patting each other on the back for having such good taste, and wishing they didn't have to deal with folks who have a different idea of what constitutes good music.
With all due respect, that's incorrect.
If you've got centuries of a received tradition of liturgical music that some people scared about dropping membership decide to hit the reset button on in a big way in hopes it will get some butts in the seats, what is that primarily about?
Protestants, of course, had been doing this for a long time. The real problem is that as soon as Roman Catholics did this, it solidified once and for all the notion that liturgical practice is solely a matter of personal taste and subjective preference, rather than an organic development of the faith within a given culture that takes a long time. Further, it demonstrated how things that take centuries to take shape take no time at all to demolish--hence why it is vital to hold fast to the received tradition. As soon as you have a generation that grew up with something else and thinks that's normative, you're in trouble. We've had a hard enough time at our Orthodox parish just getting the deacon to say "With strength!" for the last repetition of the Trisagion (blessed of a servant of God as he truly is) because it isn't what he knew for his first six or seven years of being a deacon.
Some people just think the Church should be the Church, timeless rather than timely, and think that transcends issues of personal taste. Unfortunately, the current state of things allows for even that point of view to be boiled down to an issue of personal taste. Everything is boutique.
Richard
Erin,
I would argue that there seems to be a broad consensus about what is appropriate and expected as far as music in the venues and situations you mention (although I sure do wish they would stop playing "Sweet Caroline" at Fenway Park during the 8th inning), whereas there is no such consensus as to what is appropriate in worship settings, as the back and forth of discussions like these amply demonstrates. And then the question becomes, "Who gets to decide what is appropriate in worship," which brings me right back to the point of my earlier post, which you do not really address.
I have no problem with arguments that speak to the history of liturgy, tradition, or the theology of worship, and some of the discussion on this post has focused on those issues. But I can't stop feeling like that is just a covering for an elitist agenda, not with the liberal usage of words like "schlock," "crap," and "infantile" that pepper your posts and the posts of some of your fellow travelers. As I said, this is the language of elitist aesthetics, and contradicts all your protestations that this is not about snobbery. If it quacks like a duck, it is a duck. That's all I'm saying.
Well, MSW, it goes both ways: if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, and if it sounds like schlock, it's schlock. That's all *I'm* saying.
I could just as easily accuse you of being the sort of person who thinks that all art is only about the perception of the artist, and that it is therefore impossible to distinguish schlock from good music provided the composer thought it was good at the time that he/she wrote it. Since no one ever intentionally writes schlock, that makes all liturgical music good and worthy of being sung at Mass, right?
But as Violachick kindly and clearly explained above, there are rules behind musical composition; I further am aware that there are rules specific to the composition of sacred music, and to the way it should be played and sung at Mass. I may not know these rules as well as I'd like, but I do have an inkling of what they are, and of why the Catholic Church tends to think that Gregorian Chant should have pride of place in our liturgical celebrations--and none of it's about me, or about what I like or what my subjective tastes are, or about the kind of snobby elitism which you keep insinuating must be my true motive.
Erin,
I don't see how you can use words like "infantile" in reference to other people's musical taste and then be surprised if people accuse you of adopting an air of superiority. If its not about elitism and snobbery, I once again must ask, why so much condescending snootiness? You may not mean to, but you (and others on this thread)
come off as arrogant, mean-spirited, and smug.
Since I called you on it, you have given two responses that have largely refrained from using such off-putting rhetoric, which proves that your arguments can be made without resorting to the sort of rhetoric that, if its not about elitism and personal taste, sure throws people like me off the scent.
So then, let's take a look at what you insist are the real issues being discussed here. Now, I'm a low-church Protestant, and as Richard reminded us all, that means I am basically a lost cause when it comes to understanding what constitutes "real" worship. But tell me, where did these "rules" that you talk about come from relative to the composition of sacred music?
Now, of course, these rules must be recorded somewhere in scripture...but no, not really. I think maybe Jesus might have said something about "true worshippers must worship God in spirit and in truth," but nothing about "rules" for what constitutes appropriate music for worship services. Maybe the absence of clearcut guidelines in the New Testament should give us a clue that worship forms and structures can evolve and develop over time, and not just stay stuck in 3rd of 4th century expressions.
Which brings us that thing you RC's talk so much about called "Tradition." There is a fine line between Tradition and traditionalism, and I believe that you and your friends have crossed it long ago. No doubt there is much to be learned from the past, and we ignore it at our peril and all that. But then, again, there are more than one versions of "Tradition," and perhaps, even more than one "Tradition" itself. So then, whose version of "Tradition" is going to be most authoritative?
Even when it comes to rules about music composition, things are not as simple as you imply. For example, when you speak of the rules of music composition, I can only assume you mean rules that pertain to Western music, since African and Asian music abide by and/or bend a different set of rules.
I personally find a lot of the music that has been held up for ridicule on this thread to be unsatisfying, and I can't and won't go so far as saying that "anything goes." (I am a pastor, and while I am not in the practice of dictating that brides process to "Gather Us In," or any other piece of music, I would also not allow that same bride to process in to the strains of "(She's a) Brick House"). I am not saying that there is no room for discussion about what is appropriate or aesthetically pleasing in worship settings, but I simply find your arguments way too dismissive of anyone else's perspective. You make it sound like arriving at objectivity about all of these matters is so cut and dried, but it is not now, and it never has been, that easy.
Erin - I was referencing this:
I’m not relating this to the architecture of arrangement of a church BUILDING. I’m talking about the nature of the church, one of the central issues of ecclesiology. We say christ is the head and the church is the body. But how does this begin to work out in theory and practice?
In the hierarchical/vertical view there is a clear ordering of importance and influence of the ordained over the merely baptized. One could describe the church likened to a pyramid, with the pope at the top, cardinals under the pope, curia a layer further down, then bishops, then priests, then deacons, then minor orders, then those religiously vowed but not in orders, then the baptized. Hierarchical, with clear authority. Indeed, authoritarian is an apt description. This was the typical, operative understanding before vatican ii:
Cf httpCOLONSLASHSLASHdlibrary.acu.edu.auSLASHstaffhomeSLASHyukoszaryczSLASHeccSLASHCHAP1.HTML
One thing vatican ii did was to expand this view, adding a complementary and more horizontal, inclusive view. Thus the council wrote, after briefly describing salvation history: Thus, the Church has been seen as "a people made one with the unity of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."
That description STARTS with everybody, then proceeds to elaborate: "Also, in the building up of Christ's Body various members and functions have their part to play."
This can be conceptualized as a single circle containing the chuch, the body of christ, with some having a special calling to serve the body. This is a more orgainic, horizontal view as opposed to the pyramid view.
(google ‘lumen gentium’ to see the entire text with much more imagery)
Those were the two concepts of church that i meant. I think the confusion was my fault. Sorry.
I see these as complementary models. Do you? (Or did i completely lose you?)
MSW, this is the whole of my remarks in which the words "schlocky" and "infantile" appear:
"I've nothing against the guitar as an instrument, and I'm sure others who share my musical tastes would agree that it can be used to create lovely music. Unfortunately, the use of badly tuned guitars to highlight the schlocky, ill-written, lyrically infantile compositions of the latter half of the twentieth century's liturgical music, many of which seem to have been written by people who thought that a Rogers and Hammerstein musical represented the highest pinnacle of human musical achievement and attempted to imitate this style in their own compositions, sadly falling just short of utter failure to do so, has given me, and people like me, a bit of a distaste for guitar music at Mass."
How do you get from the context of those remarks to a very uncharitable accusation that I am displaying "condescending snootiness"? I wrote one paragraph of all the many paragraphs I've written on this thread in which I permitted a little of my frustration with bad contemporary music to show through. Frankly, your quick willingness to judge me for that is rather troublesome.
That aside, though, as a Catholic I'm interested in what the Catholic Church thinks, writes, and teaches about liturgical tradition, and I accept their authority over these matters. If I were not a Catholic, I doubt that I'd be overly concerned with how Catholics perceive the liturgy, including their debates about music.
Perhaps you should reread and carefully consider the paragraph you wrote just before you asked that question. I would not describe it as an objective, unopinionated expression. Would you? Really?
"...while there may be some valid arguments as to who the proper subject of worship should, in fact, be, let's not kid ourselves about what this argument is primarily about. Its about people who think they are better than other people patting each other on the back for having such good taste, and wishing they didn't have to deal with folks who have a different idea of what constitutes good music."
Ministry of Silly Walks
That says it all, MSW. You don't seem to understand what a Catholic Mass is to us, nor, therefore, about what our Mass music should be. I don't mean to insult you (as you have tried to insult Erin), but we practicing Catholics really have had more than enough of non-Catholics and false Catholics sticking their noses in our Mass for the past forty years. We don't like what that has done to our Mass, and we just wish to be left alone in our worship. We Catholics don't have the slightest doubt about "who the proper subject of worship should, in fact, be." That statement, FROM A PASTOR, MSW, simply says it all.
And when you say to us, "I simply find your arguments way too dismissive of anyone else's perspective. You make it sound like arriving at objectivity about all of these matters is so cut and dried.", it just shows your ignorance of objectivity about our Mass. What we want our Mass music to be is, in fact, pretty much cut and dried because it is based on Catholic theology, so it doesn't matter what you think of our arguments.
Discuss these things with us all you want, but please quit insulting us. Like this, for example": "Which brings us to that thing you RC's talk so much about called "Tradition." There is a fine line between Tradition and traditionalism, and I believe that you and your friends have crossed it long ago."
I'm sure you otherwise are a very nice person and very well educated in your field, but that has no relation to the Mass or Catholicism.
ChuckDFW, of course it's opinionated. I *said* it was. I even said that in this one paragraph I was allowing some of my frustration at contemporary music to bleed through (which, however much you might deplore my having done so, might be thought understandable since I have to sing this stuff in the choir, which makes my frustrations rather acute at times). ONE PARAGRAPH, out of I can't even count how many I've written on this thread, and that makes it okay to decide that I'm just some snobby elitist sitting in a lovely home surrounded by priceless objet d'art and sipping some fine wine or other while listening to the late lamented Pavarotti fill my echoing rooms with gorgeous sound, and that, further, since it's only my snobby elitist tastes talking you're all free to dismiss anything else I've actually said so you can zero in on this one paragraph and shred it, and me, to pieces?
Sheesh. I didn't realize that the rules for me personally require complete robotic objectivism, while everyone else is free to bandy about their opinions.
Well, keeping strictly to my prescribed role as objective and non-opinionated commenter, I must inform you that your understanding of the documents of Vatican II is either erroneous or incomplete, since you seem to believe that the hierarchical understanding of the Church has been replaced with a circular model; that would be a rather strong example of the hermeneutic of rupture (or discontinuity) which Pope Benedict XVI is working so hard to dispel, as it was never true in the first place.
Erin. Our conversation has no worth that i can discern. And you are unable to refrain from making strawman arguments.
I have no interest in responding to you further. I'm sure you'll understand.
Now, I'm a low-church Protestant, and as Richard reminded us all, that means I am basically a lost cause when it comes to understanding what constitutes "real" worship.
I said nothing of the kind. What I said was:
If you've got centuries of a received tradition of liturgical music that some people scared about dropping membership decide to hit the reset button on in a big way in hopes it will get some butts in the seats, what is that primarily about?
Protestants, of course, had been doing this for a long time.
This is factual. Calvin, for example, wholesale replaced the received tradition of chant with metrical psalmody, the Anglican anthem replaced the antiphon, etc.
However:
For example, when you speak of the rules of music composition, I can only assume you mean rules that pertain to Western music, since African and Asian music abide by and/or bend a different set of rules.
Yes, and there are actually wonderful examples out there of, for example, Indian and African chant from their apostolic Christian heritage. (Alexandria being one of the great patriarchates of the undivided church, of course, and India being St. Thomas' missionary ground.) I'd have no qualms whatsover about somebody wanting to use that material within Christian worship.
Richard
Okay, uncle, mea culpa, etc. Erin, you are correct, and I apologize . Since you were the main person to respond to my earlier posts, I think I started lumping you together with several folks who have been contributing to this thread. As I look back, I see that,
indeed, aside from the paragraph I quoted, you have pretty much avoided some of the snarkiness that has offended me and others.
My only defense is that in my first post on the question on elitism and snobbery, I actually quoted from a number of posts written by several contributors that I felt were demonstrations of the elitism and snobbery I was arguing were the real agenda of this argument. While I was addressing you directly in subsequent posts, I was intending to refer to the general tenor of the discussion, particularly on the part of those who are arguing against the liturgical reforms of the past 50 or so years. I shouldn't hold you responsible for the cumulative weight of condescension when you are not by any means the primary offender, although I will still contend that the paragraph in question was pretty uncharitable.
Now, on to other matters. Cleveland (and others), I did not realize that this post was only for non-Roman Catholics, or for that matter, those you deem "false Catholics." I am sorry if I insulted you and other Catholics, and you can certainly feel free to ignore my posts if you wish, but I will continue to offer my opinions as I see fit, and I will kindly ask you not to tell me to shut up. I guess I thought we Christians were maybe, you know, part of the same family. But the "we" you refer to is a pretty exclusive club. Clearly there are many Roman Catholics, as well as Anglo-Catholics and Orthodox Christians, some of whom have spoken up on this thread, who do not fit into your definition of "we." That would be news to them, I am sure.
Yes, we Protestants operate out of a very different context, but I got involved in this conversation at least in part because very similar arguments are raging in many corners of the Protestant church. I pastor a church that celebrates worship in both "traditional" (or at least what passes for traditional in our low church environment) and "contemporary" (informal, free-flowing and no doubt more raucous than the folk-mass stuff that evidently drives so many of you crazy) expressions, and we have similar discussions within my congregation. And while I might wish to take back some of my more inflammatory statements, I am genuinely interested in this issue, and less convinced of my rightness than I might seem. I live and breathe the planning and celebration of worship, so, on the one hand, I have strong opinions, but on the other hand, a willingness and need to learn all I can from differing perspectives.
In other words, I will continue to participate as I choose, hoping that we might be able to learn something from each other. I do not pretend to understand all the mysteries of the Mass; as a life-long Protestant, there is a lot of the Roman Catholic tradition that simply eludes me, and perhaps my ignorance has shown itself in some of my comments. I have learned a lot from reading some of the posts on this and other threads. But I do hope that I will not be dismissed because I don't happen to belong to the in-group of "real" Catholics. If that happens, so be it. It will be your loss, and mine as well. But please, don't think you will shut me up.
MSW, I'm Orthodox, not Catholic, so I'm coming from the same "wing" (he said, carefully avoiding the word "branch") as it were, there are just some more olives and goat cheese in our salads. (Or more vodka and borscht in our kitchens, depending on to whom you're talking.) I don't want to give you the impression you're "dismissed" by any means, and I apologize for contributing to that impression, but it's also hard to get around the fact that Protestant worship, from our perspective, is more-or-less a cobbling together from scratch, rather than an organic development out of what came before. If you can accept that that's not snarky, just a factual statement regarding one element of what divides Protestantism from what we might loosely call the "catholic tradition" (and many Protestants I've known would acknowledge that with pride), that would be helpful--or at least acknowledge that it's not snarky from our point of view.
To put it another way--Roman Catholicism teaches that it is the One True Church, for example. When a Roman Catholic says that, they aren't being snarky, they're telling you what their church teaches (and what, presumably, they affirm if they are Roman Catholic). We should not respond in shock and surprise when somebody actually acknowledges believing what their church teaches.
Richard
"Cleveland...I am sorry if I insulted you and other Catholics, and you can certainly feel free to ignore my posts if you wish, but I will continue to offer my opinions as I see fit, and I will kindly ask you not to tell me to shut up." Ministry of Silly Walks
My friend, you could not even manage to make the above half-hearted apology without adding another insult. I did not say your opinions shouldn't be posted as you see fit, and nobody told you to shut up. You sound like Rosie O'Donnell in the midst of a losing argument. What I said was: "Discuss these things with us all you want, but please quit insulting us."
Richard,
Thanks for the helpful response. I don't know how I have communicated that I think that acknowledging that (some) Roman Catholics actually believe what the Roman Catholic Church teaches is being "snarky." I
got a good laugh when, in response to Pope Benedict XVI's restatement of the never-renounced assertion of the RC church's status as "The One True Church," Get Religion published a post with the title, "The Pope (Dramatic Pause)is Catholic." (see http://www.getreligion.org/?p=2538).
I have a similar understanding about the Christian faith more generally--I am a Christian because believe Christianity is true, which of necessity means that other ways of looking at the world are not. It may be counter to the "spirit of the times," but it is not snarky.
Once again (in fact, for the third time), what I find "snarky" are the choice of words used by several posters (not you, and not Erin, particularly) to describe music that doesn't pass muster. I repeat (and I would really like an answer to my question this time, not necessarily from you, Richard, but perhaps from someone who has chosen to use some of the following language)--how am I to take words or phrases like "crap," "schlock," "shinola," and "lame music that sux" as being anything more than snarky/elitist/arrogant/
condescending? And don't say that it's because there are rules about what constitutes appropriate sacred music. If that was all that was going on, all one would need to say is, "this is not appropriate music for the Mass" or whatever. But our posters don't stop there--they go way beyond that, and that's what makes me think that elitism and snobbery are at least part of what is going on here.
Cleveland,
I don't know if I should continue this conversation, since it seems to have devolved into something personal rather than a substantive contribution to the matter at hand. If there was a way to take this offline, I certainly would. But lacking that option, I do feel a need to defend myself against your accusation that I am continually insulting you rather than simply expressing my opinions.
The part of your post that I interpreted as inviting me to shut up was not the portion you chose to include in your post. Rather, it was this statement:
"We practicing Catholics really have had more than enough of
non-Catholics and false Catholics sticking their noses in our Mass for the past forty years."
With all due respect, when I read these words, I honestly felt that I was being told to butt out and mind my own business. I don't see my response as being an insult directed towards you as much as it was a reaction to what I interpreted as your a desire for me to stop "sticking [my] nose" where it did not belong. I simply asserted my right to continue to participate in this discussion, and invited you to ignore me.
I assure you that the last thing I want to do is to insult you, other Roman Catholics, or the Roman Catholic Church as a whole, and I am sorry if my apology seemed "half-hearted." It was genuinely sincere.
MSW: You might read the book _Why Catholics Can't Sing_ by Thomas Day, a self-professed "concerned Catholic layman". There's a chapter where he describes being at a Mass, and the Passing of the Peace is reached. He turns to an old lady with a rosary and says, "The peace of the Lord be with you," and she just looks at him and tells him, "I don't believe in that sh**," going back to saying her rosary. What is key here is that the Passing of the Peace was not part of the old rite, and clearly this woman was not happy about having this change shoved down her throat.
The point is, when big changes occur on this kind of a scale for sketchy reasons, for a lot of people the response is going to be anger more than anything. For Catholics who use the terms you're calling them on using, I'd relate it less to being snooty and patting themselves on the back for having better taste, and more to this anger. Inexplicably, they're the ones being blasted as divisive, and they're not the ones who introduced any changes. For a younger person who grew up after VII who finds themselves wanting to embrace the older Tradition of the Church, it can also be anger that somebody decided for them that they're not going to get the liturgical practice of the ages. One way or the other, these are people who discovered long ago that saying "This isn't appropriate for the liturgical practice of the Mass" gets a lot of blank, glassy-eyed stares from most people and isn't really a barn-burner of a conversation starter.
Richard
This is my first time writing to a blog and I am leagally blind. so my apologies for the no-doubt many typros.
I cannot figure out what is going on in the Catholic Church at present. My friends over eighty are tuned in to EWTN daily and watch the masses in Latin when they cannot go to church. I see on the internet, including here, a wish to return to the church before 1960. Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict seem to be on the same bent.
I was raised a Methodist and converted to Catholocism in the early seventies. I have since been educated in a fine Catholic college by School Sisters of Notre Dame to becaom a leader in my community and in my church. Over the past thirty-five years, I have grown and deepeded my relationship with my Lord to the point that I find I need the weekly, if not more often, worship experience with fellow believers who are also on the tough path of discipleship--radical discipleship. I also need to gather with other like-minded Christians in order to share my enthusiasm and let the joy and grace spill out of me to them. This mutual sharing of God's grace, love, and steadfastness can be done through prayer, through sharing a hug, a thought, our words, and often through song.
I lovce ALL kind of sacred music. Luckily, I attend a parish church which has grown and grown over the twenty years I have belonged. Guess what? It has grown partially through the music and through the homilies and prayers. Much of the music we usee was written by "Haugen & Haas", as well as Cary Landry, The St. Lewis Jesuits, AND music from the classic masters of yesteryear. In fact, we have several masses each weekend, with different music at most of them.
Our musicians, both classical and "folk" are excellent at their craft with piano and organ as well. I cannot say that I always sing the hymns of the 17th, 18th and 19th century with a much gusto as I do the modern. I definately do not hear or sing the old ones with the same emotion that I hear the mdoern. I can just sit at my computer and listen to "Haufen and Haas" and suddenly find myself in tears at one or another of them. Tears of joy and thanklsfulness sometimes, but mostly just tears of awe at how much God loves me--ME a simple sinner just trying to live better each day.
Maybe it is because I am poor. I am poor not by choice originally, buit due to disability. I do not yet have quite enough to pay all my necessary medical and housing needs, but hope that changes with my medicare. We'll see. However, I really like being "Poor." I don't like to beg, even of the agemcies that are supposed to help. However, I love not having any excess. If I have a little left occasionaly, I LOVE being able to send a card to someone who is going through a rough period. --Or have coffee with someone who is alone and lonely. I never seem to do much for me, but I love being able to help someone else. Mostly I do that with my time, my talents, and my love. Being free of material things makes that much easier to do.
And iot gives me time to oray, meditate, and listen to music. By myself, I will sometimes listen to chant, classical pieces written for the Church, and to modern, contemporary Catholic music. But in church, I want to hear and understand what is being said by the priest, what we say in unmiason, the scripture readings. AND the music.
Thius modern music speaks to me where I live. I ask my older friends what they did during the old Lating mass and they tell me they prayed the rosary!! That is a solitary function. Mass is a shared experience. WE are the Body of Christ, not just the priests, We were each called to discipleship, each one of us. We are also ministers through our Baptism. It should be a community event--we are to be "gatherd in." Christ gathers us in! nd--it is serious business. Mass is not entertainment. It is a chance to evaluate ourselves, To hear God's Word again and again, to witness the extrodinary event of Christ coming to feed us with his sacrificed body and blood which, because of hHis resurrection, we are now a part of--forever and ever!
Lets us try to appreciate each others different tastes and not criticise on another like this. I became a Catholic because I just could not live without Eucharist! But many of you seem to think I am not a real Catholic because I like the new music and I don't like mass in Latin.
Love in Christ,
Jan
I would kindly invite you to take a look at the Lutheran Church
There's nothing wrong with the post-council Catholic hymndody (note: I mentioned POST council, as in the years 1968-74 or so. After that it's a different story...).
It's just we have to hear this soft-soapy stuff EVERY Sunday. Few people actually enjoy this anyomre. It has served its full measure and it's time for the hootenany hyms to return to 1969. We can use good modern him, plus remember the good sacred ones from the past.
It's just things like Gather Us In have been shoved in our ears for 40 years. And some wonder why so many Catholics don't attend Mass.
Post a Comment
By submitting these comments, I agree to the beliefnet.com terms of service, rules of conduct and privacy policy (the "agreements"). I understand and agree that any content I post is licensed to beliefnet.com and may be used by beliefnet.com in accordance with the agreements.