This is a difficult post to write. I have felt the pull to write it for quite a while, but I’ve been hoping that someone else would say these things so I wouldn’t have to. I wish to make clear at the get-go here that I support the Catholic Church, my priest, and bishop in their ministry, I trust in their knowledge and guidance, and I am doing my best to adapt to the changes. My purpose here is not to revolt against the new translation of the General Instruction on the Roman Missal and the implementation of sung Propers. However, the changes are difficult for many people, myself included. My purpose is to discuss the feelings and difficulties of some of those in the congregation.
Over the last couple years our parish has begun a series of changes in the music. They began slowly, eliminating drums and eventually guitars as well. People grumbled about it, some left the parish, but overall the people moved on and kept singing.
The next step seemed to be a combination of weeding out some of the cheesier (but well loved) songs and introducing more hymns. The hymns were changed out very quickly to correspond with the Sunday readings and liturgical seasons, so it was difficult to learn the new songs, even though the words were beautiful. The responsorial psalms were changed as well, from songs of the psalms that could be sung even apart from a responsorial to a sung psalm and response usually in the Gelineau format. (Sample of Gelineau Psalm 23) The organ was used more and the pace of the music slowed. People grumbled, some more left the parish, and again the uproar died down.
Then came the Antiphons.
Oh Antiphons, the trouble you’ve caused.
As of Advent 2011 the new translation of the GIRM took effect, specifying, or rather, clarifying, what music could and should be used in Mass, and bringing back the Propers of the Mass. The Propers are five chants that are proper, or specific, to each Mass, varying by date.
And here’s where this post may indulge in a little bit of criticism. With the introductions of the Propers /Antiphons: entrance, responsorial, offertory, and communion, our parish dropped nearly all the rest of the music, except maybe one hymn, and possibly one choral piece sung only by the choir.
Our priest had done a bit to prepare the people for the change. He spent all of Advent teaching on the music of the church and the place it holds in mass, he encouraged us to go back and read Bishop Olmsted’s four part series on music in liturgy. Singing the Mass: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Father tried his best to tell us what it was about and why the changes were happening. He explained to us that there are four hierarchical options for music in the mass. Hierarchical meaning that the first one was ideal, and the 4th one was somehow resorting to a last ditch effort. So our parish has gone full steam ahead for #1, and a lot of people left the parish feeling abandoned and broken. That should tell us right there that this subject is very, very important.
It is important in two ways. First, the church understands that music is an important part of the human experience. Music has the capability to move beyond our rational minds and impact our very soul – for good or for bad. Second, because of this we have adopted the songs we have known as a spiritual language; a step towards knowing what prayer is.
In reading some different articles and posts around the internet, there seems to be an open disdain among music ministers for people who are dragging their feet about the changing of music. There is not any empathy towards the people’s attachment to what they have known or why it might be important to them. There is an underlying current of thought that says the people who don’t like the Antiphons or other changes in music are just not trying hard enough, and if they had any faith or taste then they would understand and love this.
What was my part in this? I’m just a mom, a pew sitter. But I had a bit of an inside view of what was happening because my husband is a cantor and deeply involved in the choir. So I had a very early look at what was coming and had been able to prepare myself as best I could. Still it has been difficult.
Why would a simple change in music be so difficult?
The songs we sing are a part of us. These songs that we had sung in mass from our early years had become, in a sense, our language of prayer. For many, these songs had been our first experience with what prayer is. Suddenly, it seemed, they had been yanked away, and I know people who actually floundered in their faith because of it. Since these praise and worship songs feel like a part of us, and they are no longer allowed at mass, it is natural to feel that the spirituality we had experienced in the past, that even our relationship with God was inferior or superficial. The antiphons and new-to-us hymns were difficult to sing. They were not in the musical form we were used to listening to and singing with. The meter was different, the tunes were unpredictable. And because they were different every week, they were impossible to learn.
Being close to the music ministry (but not in it) meant that I got an earful every place I went. Every conversation I had with people who were in any way connected to our parish was either filled with complaints or anger about the changes. Some wanted me to tell them what was happening and why, but mostly people just wanted to vent. One friend said, “I appreciate the musical abilities of the choir and music director, but I feel ostracized for my lack of abilities.” I had close friends who left the parish at this time, devastated that the mass no longer felt like they remembered.
For my part, I felt the pain of it too. I tried to focus on the positive and the inevitability of change. But for a while mass just wasn’t a happy time for me. It was work, not joy. I was frustrated for my children – that the songs in mass wouldn’t be ones they could sing in a time of fear at night or while going about their day. These antiphons weren’t songs that you could carry with you in your heart, and that made me so sad. It was hard to see my friends who were also doing their best to, if not embrace, at least tolerate the changes. All of us were struggling; there was a heaviness to the whole experience.
But it was not all bad –
There is a point in the faith, when you have to take a step from what you want to do to what is right. A point where you experience the drudgery of pure obedience. Strangely, there is grace to be found there.
One friend commented that it has, “sharpened her sense of reverence and awe.”
I had been sad that my children would not have those songs to buoy them along their faith journey – that the antiphons were not how they would pray musically as they went through their day…
Until they did.
A school friend had given my five year old daughter a teeny tiny bible – really just a little booklet with some key verses in it. One day, I found her reading them, singing them, in the style of the antiphons. And I realized: this is what they know. This will be what they grow up with. This will not be as difficult for them, unless we, as their parents, make it so.
I’m still struggling with the changes. But here are some things I am trying to do to move forward and keep my faith strong in the midst of this.
1. Add more faith filled music elsewhere. It is my job to fill my children’s hearts and my heart with musical prayer. This can be done at many times during the week, it doesn’t have to stem from mass. I purchased some more music, listened to it in the car with the kids, listened to it on my own while working around the house. Those songs are still there, even if we are not singing them in mass.
2. Enrich my language of prayer. I have leaned on the music in mass as an easy part of my prayer; but now it is time to pray in other forms as well. Through rote prayers, through the words of the psalms, through quiet, through work. I miss praying those songs during mass, but that was only one way to communicate with God and feel Him deeply.
3. Focus on why I am at mass. Was my purpose at mass to hear the songs I liked? I confess that sometimes it was. There was a time when I would glance at the worship aid and if I didn’t see any songs I liked I would get a little chip on my shoulder. But really, what is the ONE reason that we go to mass? Jesus. And that, friends, will never change. When I feel like I don’t matter here, I remember that this is not about me.
4. Ignore the music. When the mass feels like a funeral for all the slowness and minor sounding keys, let it be a quiet mass to you. Read the antiphons, connect them with the other readings. Contemplate the words and pray silently. The irony of this, much like obedience, is that once I completely let go of the music in mass idea, the music was able to speak to me in a completely different way. But to get there I had to block it out and take some time to separate myself and my ideas of what liturgical music was.
5. Learn about the changes. Take time to read the links above – Bishop Olmsted’s 4 part series and Dramatic Changes in Music Rubrics for New Missal. There is much more out there to learn.
For those of us who are feeling like our kids are missing out, who are having trouble watching them wrestle with the changes as well, and who are even feeling tempted by the “fun programs” in the local protestant churches, I challenge you to read this: 10 Surprising Reasons Our Kids Leave Church, and work to remedy those in your own heart and family. (I certainly have a lot of work to do there!) I know this is a confusing time, and we are grieving a little, but this is not the time to abandon our faith in God or in the Church He gave us. Think of how confusing that would be to our children!
As usual, C.S. Lewis can see to the root of the problem with laser sharpness. This quote is long, but every word here is important.
There are two musical situations on which I think we can be confident that a blessing rests. One is where a priest or an organist, himself a man of trained and delicate taste, humbly and charitably sacrifices his own (aesthetically right) desires and gives the people humbler and coarser fare than he would wish, in a belief (even, as it may be, an erroneous belief) that he can thus bring them to God. The other is where the stupid and unmusical layman humbly and patiently, and above all silently, listens to music which he cannot, or cannot fully, appreciate, in the belief that it somehow glorifies God, and that if it does not edify him it must be his own defect. Neither such a High Brow nor such a Low Brow can be far out of the way. To both, church music will have been a means of grace: not the music they have liked, but the music they have disliked. They have both offered, sacrificed, their taste in the fullest sense.
But where the opposite situation arises, where the musician is filled with the pride of skill or the virus of emulation and looks with contempt on the unappreciative congregation, or where the unmusical, complacently entrenched in the their own ignorance and conservatism, look with the restless and resentful hostility of an inferiority complex on all who would try to improve their taste – there, we may be sure, all that both offer is unblessed and the spirit that moves through them is not the Holy Ghost.
These highly general reflections will not, I fear, be of much practical use to any priest or organist in devising a working compromise for a particular church. The most they can hope to do is to suggest that the problem is never merely a musical one. Where both the choir and the congregation are spiritually on the right road no insurmountable difficulties will occur. Discrepancies of taste and capacity will, indeed, provide matter for mutual charity and humility.
-C.S. Lewis, Christian Reflections, “On Church Music”
What we, the people who are struggling, need from the Church is humility and gentleness. Know that if we are still there, in mass, participating in the community, we are trying. This is a difficult and emotional change for some of us. We are being asked to revise how we see ourselves as a part of the Church. It feels like we are losing a bit of ourselves, and losing a way that we were comfortable talking to God.
It is okay to take some time to adjust to this change. For those who are still struggling, I feel your pain. I’m not over it; I’m still wrestling with it as well. I’m praying for all of us.
Beautifully stated Jenni – I will be sharing this!
Thanks, Lori!
That was great, Jenni, and thank you for sharing! I can say for sure that we gravitated toward SS Simon and Jude specifically because of the beautiful, measured, incredibly reverent liturgy. We came in before the antiphons but for me, their appearance has been a tremendous blessing, first because of their beauty, and second because they are actual scripture that is chosen to magnify the meaning of the other scriptures read. I feel that our mass is about as close to Heaven as one can get on earth, which is as it should be. Of course, as new converts from Anglicanism we had no attachment to the way things were done before. I don’t mean to diminish that struggle, I just wanted to say the high-ness and holiness of our Mass is why we choose to drive all the way from Anthem. I think a taste in these things definitely should be cultivated and as your daughter has discovered, can be enjoyed too!
I understand and support the value and rightful place of the propers in mass. It’s like we have bonus readings to pray through! I hope that my post doesn’t come across as disputing those. SSJ does have a beautiful mass! I’m glad you have found a home here!
It is the complete loss of what we have known that feels like, well, loss. No one in music ministry or ordained ministry has seemed to understand that people are hurting. Many miss being a part of the mass and singing with it. While one of the catch phrases of the new translation seems to be that we can “sing the mass as opposed to singing at mass”, most of us have believed, have felt very deeply that we were singing the mass. But now we have been told that we were mistaken all these years and what we were doing is all wrong.
I am improving in my acceptance of it. But I think the church will lose more people yet. That is not a reason not to do what is called for in mass, but it is a concern that should be addressed. And soon.
= Sorry for griping the other day.
Today was not easy. A family member thinks this is pretty much guaranteed to extinguish his faith. I may intellectually understand the reasons behind it, but this completely changes everything I grew up within and feels like the rug is being yanked from beneath.
In a way, it undermines, yet again, the authority that should be carefully wielded by the Church. Common people can only take so much. This morning it occurred to me that it feels like those of us who hate this change are being considered acceptable losses, casualties of an unjust spiritual war we did not ask to fight. Maybe some humility from the clergy, an apology for allowing and encouraging what is now “illicit” might help. Instead we are getting “my way or the highway” – not helpful when people are hurting.
There is a lot to think about. It is probably a good idea to look at how we correct our families when things have gone awry or we’ve gone off the rails. Unfortunately, music is a spiritual language. To deny the people the use of their language usually causes incredible turmoil.
Thank you for sharing that, Lucy. I’m praying for you. Have you talked to your priest at all about it?
Wow, Jenni. I have much to say about your article but at present I am wiping my tears of joy that you and Jay are raising your beautiful family in the faith. That alone touched me deeply. More later.
Thanks Dad! That means a lot to me! Love you.
Thank you for this, Jenni. Lucy and I have had a couple discussions about this recently & I have wanted to get your take…and here it is! I, for one, am glad that the pendulum is swinging back, but we must be very careful of its momentum.
Yes, it is the momentum that is hard to keep up with!
So very well written. It sounds like even more has changed since we moved across the country. And I have to say that I missed a lot of what we did while at SSJ. I feel that that parish we are at now does not have a lot of the reverence that we so much enjoyed at SSJ. I feel our closeness to God has suffered because our parish tends to sing what the people what and not what God wants for us. I think what I got out of this is that I need to maybe give some of what we do at our church (except “Bridge of Troubled Waters”) more of a chance and try and lesson to what God is trying to tell me through the music we sing. Thanks for writing this.
We are very blessed at SSJ to have leadership who are doing their best to make sure the mass is reverent and as it is meant to be. I do not miss the days of being afraid of what liturgical abuse would show up next. Thanks, Zane!
Jenni,
Thank you for this blog post. I am one of those that are floundering in my faith at the moment. I still drag my butt to mass every Sunday hoping this will be the Sunday where I come alive during mass again but I feel like a fraud. My heart is not in it.
I remember listening to the choir several years back singing the Gloria. I believe that is when they still had the drums, guitars and a trumpet. The way it all came together with the lay people singing along was true worship to God. In all ways during that song we as a church were giving God praise. I LOVED IT!!!
I am trying to embrace the changes. My faith is so important to me. I hope that by going through the motions and still trying to be a good example for my boys by attending mass that I will leave mass fulfilled.
You have such a gift to reach me through your writing Jenni, thank you!
Blessings,
Crystal Aguilar (holding back tears)
Thank you for sharing, Crystal. It is clear that a lot of people feel the same way. I hope you can find that joy again. I’m praying for you!
Thank you for sharing this! Great conversation and perspective. We will be sharing this with our kids!
Thanks, Michele!
I have been a church musician since I was thirteen years old. One of the things I learned in college (as a music major) is that it takes a congregation seven (yes, 7) years to learn new music to where it becomes a part of them. We have a little less than 6 years to go as a parish. I think that while the changes were thought to be made gradually, the reality of it was really black and white. All of a sudden…the spoken preparation did not really prepare us for the reality. We, as a congregation, will need all seven years before this music is a part of us. And it will be a part of us in a new way, not what we were used to. What you saw with your daughter is what it will become. The little kids will lead us there. A children’s choir would be of greatest help in leading the parents.
When I first moved to SSJ, it was the 11:00 Mass music that healed my hurting heart. I LOVED that mass. It was comforting and soothing, calmed my senses and was balm for my wounds. The music spoke to me on it’s own, not needing to be explained or defined or pushed at me. I long for that time again. Sometimes I sang. Sometimes I just listened and let the beauty wash over me.
I love latin, I love chant, I love the vast treasury of sacred music. I love listening to the congregation sing the Sanctus or Agnus Dei. But when they are switched out, it takes time to learn the new one. And when all the music is new? No one sings. The singing I hear now consists mostly of the sung responses “the Lord be with you–and with your spirit.” I am not looking to go back to happy clappy folk music. But some consistency would be greatly appreciated!
Since Easter, the music leaves me angry. That’s why I don’t bother singing. But like you said, mass is not about me. If the music gets in the way of me and God, well, then, I need to get rid of that barrier. Who knows? Six more years and I may love it again. Or maybe not. I have to be willing to sacrifice that. Your quote from CS Lewis was good for me, thank you. He pegged me right on the head. I never thought music would be my cross to bear. It has always been my joy.
What I miss the most is seeing the psalm in the missalette and humming a tune or three and wondering which one they will do. As a Catholic, most of the bible verses I have memorized are SUNG. I don’t have the chapter and verse down, but the scriptures are in my head through all the songs I have learned over the years.
Your post has helped me tremendously. I will do my best to let the music speak to me in it’s own way. Music is a language and I don’t speak this language yet.
And more importantly, I am called to be obedient.
Thanks for sharing that, Kathi. I had no idea about the 7 years to really embrace the change. But thinking back to past changes that makes sense.
In the mean time, like you said, obedience, waiting, we have to keep trying.
Jenni, you are a blessing to us all. So much of what you said touched my heart! The word obedience kept coming back at me. Ten years ago I would have said there was so much joy in my heart when I attended mass. Now not so much. You mentioned listening to music at home or in the car and I remembered how I always had Joe Wise or Cary Landry playing at home for the kids and myself as well. Even though I do not appreciate the music of our church as much as I should, I am there to worship our Lord through the sacrifice of the mass until I die.
Thank you, Barb! Love you!
Jenni, thanks for your spirit of charity and wisdom in this discussion.
Let me say that I have been in your shoes, but in the reverse. I was raised on traditional hymnody in church, classical music at home, and sacred polyphony in my Lutheran high school choral program, and just before we became Catholic we had spent several years as Anglicans, where we learned a great deal about reverence in worship and liturgy.
Then my husband and I found ourselves thrust into a tiny inner city evangelical mission church, in which the worship band was almost deafening, so it didn’t really matter that I knew none of the tunes to the words that were up on that overhead projector, and were always different every single week. I spent eight years there in real agony over the fact that my children were being so musically impoverished. I understood that we were there for other reasons, important reasons of ministry and outreach, and the worship was a cross I would just have to bear; but it broke my heart repeatedly, and I had to ask for Jesus’ eyes and ears over and over again, to help me see the beauty and goodness He was bringing about even in those circumstances.
But when we came into the Church, the second most important gift (first being the joy of receiving the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ in the holy Eucharist) was the treasure trove of the whole history of music the Church has given us, both in Gregorian chant and in sacred polyphony. I approach all the good gifts mother Church has to offer with the wide open arms of a little child, delighted and astounded at the riches I have found!! I am profoundly grateful to be in this diocese, under the shepherding of Bishop Olmsted, because I see how He is laboring to bring these riches to the people, to feed the lambs with the very best the Church has to offer.
As for my children, and my early fears for their musical impoverishment? Well, the fact that three of these teenagers have been inspired to join the cathedral choir with me, that they love chant and enthusiastically learn the antiphons, have begun singing polyphony at home just for fun, and after the extraordinary music offered by the schola at mass today, my middle daughter declared that she MUST start voice lessons, because THAT is how she wants to sing – this tells me that there is much good in what is being offered at Ss. Simon and Jude.
I understand, I truly do, the difficulty in making these changes. I have also heard many tales of how people left the Church after Vatican II, when the traditional Latin mass they had known all their lives, the faith in which they were formed, was so drastically altered. Sometimes change is good, sometimes it is terrible. But it is always a great spiritual challenge! I pray for our Bishops and priests as they seek to incorporate change, that the changes will first of all honor our Lord Jesus, and that they will be blessed with an extra dose of pastoral wisdom and grace, and for all of us, that our hearts will be open to the Holy Spirit to see and hear truth and beauty in new ways, ad majorem Dei gloriam.
I love this part:
*I pray for our Bishops and priests as they seek to incorporate change, that the changes will first of all honor our Lord Jesus, and that they will be blessed with an extra dose of pastoral wisdom and grace, and for all of us, that our hearts will be open to the Holy Spirit to see and hear truth and beauty in new ways, ad majorem Dei gloriam.*
That is so important. That is vital!
I have had many people tell me over the last couple days what they or their parents went through after Vatican II. It was earthshaking for a lot of people, and there was no catechesis to go along with it, no immediate access to the documents for the laypeople, no internet to study what was happening or connect with others. We live in a very blessed time that we have all of these: a bishop and priest dedicated to our catechesis (even if we sometimes don’t understand anyway), access to the documents to see that these changes are not just a matter of a few people’s musical taste. I am very thankful for that!
“We live in a very blessed time that we have all of these: a bishop and priest dedicated to our catechesis (even if we sometimes don’t understand anyway), access to the documents to see that these changes are not just a matter of a few people’s musical taste. I am very thankful for that!”
Amen and Amen!!
I haven’t yet spoken to him. He’s taken a few trips and so have we. I almost don’t know what to say. More than likely I’ll just burst into years and I have no solution to suggest. This is the last straw on the stack of heavy grievances and it’s important to sort them all out.
Jenni,
Thank you for these beautiful and thoughtful words on your struggles in adapting to our new reality of the Roman Missal. A friend and member of our music ministry passed along your post to me, and I thought I would share a bit about our journey. I am the director of liturgy and music at this parish, and so my thoughts emanate from that perspective, as well as from sitting in the pews from time to time.
I have been wrestling with the antiphons for some time, trying to determine how best to introduce them to our faith community. Focusing on the Entrance antiphon, it finally occurred to me (thank you, Holy Spirit) that the Entrance antiphon has been here all along, most recently in the form of the opening hymn that we all love to sing. The texts for most of the hymns and songs we sing as this part of the Introductory Rites are scripturally based. What has happened, in my opinion, is that we have lost or forgotten our understanding of the connections between the antiphons and the songs.
We sing Marty Haugen’s “Gather Us In” because it is such a rousing and uplifting way to start Mass, getting us in the right frame of mind and speaking to us of the many of the reasons we celebrate Mass. (My parish loves to sing this song!) Unfortunately, its scriptural basis doesn’t match or complement any of the Entrance antiphons for Sunday worship in the Roman Missal. So, should we take it off the song list? Perhaps.
In 2007, the US Bishops gave us a great gift in the document, Sing to the Lord: Music in Divine Worship. In it, they lay out guidelines for liturgical song with the goal of drawing “all who worship the Lord into fullness of liturgical prayer” (foreword). In it, they speak of the purpose and place of the antiphons:
The purpose of [the Entrance chant or song] is to open the celebration, foster the unity of those who have been gathered, introduce their thoughts to the mystery of the liturgical season or festivity, and accompany the procession of the priest and ministers. (§142, quoting GIRM No. 47)
They continue:
The text and music for the Entrance song may be drawn from a number of sources.
a. The singing of an antiphon and psalm during the entrance procession has been a longstanding tradition in the Roman Liturgy. Antiphons and psalms may be drawn from the official liturgical books—the Graduale Romanum, or the Graduale Simplex—or from other collections of antiphons and psalms.
b. Other hymns and songs may also be sung at the Entrance, providing that they are in keeping with the purpose of the Entrance chant or song. (§144)
Loosely interpreted, one could almost program anything for the Entrance song. But that is sloppy, so we’re back to trying to reconnect the Entrance antiphon with the songs we know.
Connecting scripture to song takes time and effort, and although there are many resources for the liturgist and musician, no one resource works for the particular songs in a specific parish’s congregational repertoire. I didn’t start this process at my first parish, and I am sorry to say that I didn’t start it at the beginning of my ministry at this parish, but it has become the only way I have found to balance honoring both the church’s liturgical journey and, in your words, “the songs we have known as a spiritual language.”
Returning to our “Gather Us In” example, I mentioned that it is not tied directly to any of the Sunday Entrance antiphons, but a closer look shows that it references the Communion antiphon for the 18th, 24th, and 27th Sundays in Ordinary Time. In addition, and looking at the Year A readings alone, it references the First Reading for Epiphany Day, Baptism of the Lord, and the 5th and 20th Sundays in Ordinary Time; the Psalm for Holy Thursday; the Second Reading for the 4th Sunday of Lent, the 5th Sunday of Easter, and the Body and Blood of Christ; and the Gospel for the 5th and 28th Sundays in Ordinary Time.
So, might we be able to use “Gather Us In” as an Entrance song for these particular Sundays as it fosters all that the Entrance song is purposed to be? Or could it be a highly appropriate Offertory song on these days? Perhaps.
Elsewhere in Sing to the Lord, the bishops lay out three judgments for evaluating music for the liturgy: the liturgical judgment, the pastoral judgment, and the musical judgment. I won’t go into details, but I think failing to balance these judgments can lead to the difficulties you describe in your post. One pastor or musician chooses one approach while another follows a different path.
I struggle with this issue constantly. Is a song worthy? Is it beautiful? Can the people sing it? Are we singing a song too often? Is it worth diminishing the quality of our worship a bit as we struggle to learn something new?
I too have heard the disdain. I also know colleagues who refuse to face the issue and who stick only with what they know and what their congregation loves with nary a new song in sight. I pray for all of them, and for myself to find an appropriate middle path.
In the conclusion of Sing to the Lord, the bishops offer a final thought on our journey of liturgical renewal and spiritual growth:
The words of St. Augustine remind us of our pilgrimage: “You should sing as wayfarers do—sing but continue your journey. Do not grow tired, but sing with joy!” (Sermo 256, 1.2.3)
In the end, that may be all we can do, regardless of how well we know the songs.
Thanks for sharing that! It is really good to hear the struggles from the other side of the music planning. I know it is not easy on your end either.
“We sing Marty Haugen’s ‘Gather Us In’ because it is such a rousing and uplifting way to start Mass, getting us in the right frame of mind …”
… like in the fourth verse where it says:
“Not in the dark of buildings confining,
Not in some heaven light years away,
But here in this place the new light is shining,
Now is the Kingdom, now is the day.”
Don’t we find that just a little bit hazy on the theological side? Do we genuinely believe that heaven and earth do NOT converge somehow in the Sacrifice of the Mass, as is elaborated upon at some length in the opening remarks of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy from (brace yourselves!) Vatican II?
Oh well, just don’t sing it at a funeral.
Anyway, the term “song” was replaced by “chant” in the official English translation of the GIRM after the bishops wrote their document on sacred music, as it was a more accurate translation of “cantus,” and the fact is that the antiphons listed in the Roman Missal were to be given pre-eminence. Yes, that’s news to people, which was what those charged with implementing the new translation were supposed to be getting across in the first place. Historically, metrical hymns did not have the place they do now, even on the assumption that congregations would sing actively. And there is nothing to prevent the Entrance Antiphon from being chanted as a prelude, followed by a processional hymn — do you really need an announcer to explain the obvious beforehand, like telling people the name of the parish, or that there’s a number on the board that corresponds to a hymn being sung, or that they’re supposed to stand? — or for the Offertory Antiphon to be followed by a hymn, or the Communion Antiphon to be followed by a choral motet and then a hymn, or the other way around. And since there has historically never been a Recessional chant called for, a hymn can be sung at that time as well.
So, what is it exactly that people are being asked to give up here, other than preconceived notions that do not reflect what the Church calls for in the sacred liturgy?
Not to mention hymns that are theologically troublesome, if not downright heretical (and there are a few) …
“So, what is it exactly that people are being asked to give up here, other than preconceived notions that do not reflect what the Church calls for in the sacred liturgy?”
Well, that is is exactly, isn’t it?
That sums it up so well, but it is also not nearly as simple as that. Where did we (“the people”) get those preconceived notions? How did we become so attached to them? Are we attached to them or just being picky?
There is still plenty of room for other music, but there will be trial and (lots of) error as those in charge figure out how to balance the old, the new, and the very old.
“There is still plenty of room for other music, but there will be trial and (lots of) error as those in charge figure out how to balance the old, the new, and the very old.”
Much of what the Church has given us, especially lately, already tells us how, from the admonition that Gregorian Chant be given “pride of place” in the liturgy, to having the sacred treasury of polyphony, and the choirs that sing them, being preserved. The only “trial and error” will be on the part of those who are creatures of habit like the rest of us, and will have to learn to ask the right questions about what is acceptable and what is not.
We got into these habits because, for the last forty or fifty years, we looked to the world for that which would move us, in the form of popular music genre, rather than a tradition of nearly two millennia. In so doing, those who prepare the music for our official worship will challenge the Catholic sacred music publishing machine, and the artists in their stable of talent, who must now get with the program, or do a good job of looking as if they do.
Even the theological content of the hymns, especially contemporary ones, are undergoing unprecedented scrutiny by the American bishops and those whom they consult. (Enjoy “Gather Us In” while you can; it won’t be around for long.)
Jenni, this isn’t brain surgery, nor is it pain and suffering, but simply a new way of thinking, one that was there all along.