Becoming Tradition

Tradition and Ideals by Adam Wood

Think about this in any other context. You can’t (reasonably) say that pasta isn’t authentically Italian just because it was invented in China and didn’t get there until the Rennaisance. It makes no sense to champion cabbage as the ideal Irish cuisine and dismiss potatoes as an innovation from the New World. How would somebody even try to make rules about this sort of thing? “All cultural cuisine in use as of April 15, 1875 is to be considered the ideal representation of each country’s national gastronomic habits.”

…

If God the Son became a real human being in a real culture, and institued a Church which was to be guided by real human beings through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and revelation provided by Scripture and Tradition, I would suggest that we can’t simply ignore what “tradition” is like everywhere else that real human beings are involved. (Not to mention the fact that the history of liturgical practice is similarly messy and varied.)

…

When will Gospel music, or Praise and Worship pop styles, or anything else become a legitimate part of the musical tradition of the Church? It will not be when some professional thinker finds a convincing argument for its inclusion, or when some piece of written legislation appears to allow it. It will only be when musicians who are deeply connected with the existing tradition of liturgical practice, who understand it in a way that cannot be set down in legislation or academic papers, find a place for it.

Wood summarises his essay at the Chant Café in this way:

There is no such thing as ideal liturgical praxis, only a lived tradition. This means that rather then theorizing about what is the essential aspect of the ideal (the Proper texts, the original melodies, the Latin language), we rather must live with and live into the received tradition (Gregorian Chant, the Graduale Propers, Sacred Polyphony, etc) before we can even begin to think about what new treasures should find a place in the storehouse.

Sing the right text, then the music will follow

Via the Chant Café, here is part two of the interview with Jeffrey Tucker published on the blog of the Sacred Music Programme at the University of Notre Dame. (Part one is here).

Tucker explains the origin of the Simple English Propers, an adaptation of traditional melodies of the Propers (chants which change with every Mass) to sing the English texts.

So then, I took the next question: “well if we’re going to sing them English, what’s the resource we should use?” Now up until that point in history, I was cutting and pasting things: I was using a little bit from the Anglican use gradual, there was some book published in 1965 that has some introits, and I found some scrappy little pieces here and there for communion. I was able to piece it together with a great deal of trouble and effort. Suddenly though, I found myself in the position of saying something along the lines of what I just said to you, to a group of 200 musicians, most of whom are volunteers, and I couldn’t just rattle off a bunch of internet links. Suddenly I felt discredited, I felt like everything I had said for the last hour had no action item at all. I stood there with my mouth open, staring at this person in silence for what seemed like ten minutes (it was probably 15 seconds). I turned white, and I said to the person: “you know, I’m going to get to work on that.” I left the room and I immediately called up my friend Adam Bartlett with whom I had been feuding with for two years over some idiotic, irrelevant problem concerning the rhythm of chant or something like that. I said Adam: “you and I have been at each others throats over this idiotic issue that, turns out, nobody cares about, why don’t we work together and finally do a book of English propers”, and he was happy to bury the hatchet and get to work on it. That was October and by March the book was in print. 

In Tucker's view the big hurdle is getting people to sing the Propers at all.

I want to mention one more thing before I close: I think it’s really urgent that we stop thinking about the problems of the music in the Mass as a war between styles. It’s not that styles don’t matter, but if that’s all you’re thinking about you’re really missing the point. To my mind, if you’re able to accomplish the propers of the Mass with a guitar then that’s a gigantic improvement. Even if it’s using pop styles, it’s a huge improvement. I don’t think that we’re on the right track if all we’re doing is arguing about why type of music needs to be played in Mass. What we need to be talking about is the texts and that’s where it has to begin.

One way to do it

In November last year, the New Liturgical Movement published an interview with Cardinal Bartolucci about the Liturgical Reform and Sacred Music. The interviewer came to something many wonder about:

In the implementation of Sacrosanctum Concilium’s precepts on music, what went well, and what went badly.

And the reply?

[His Eminence declined to answer this question.]

That's one way to deal with it.

It cannot begin with Latin

Via Chant Café, the blog of the Sacred Music Programme (oh, all right, Program) at the University of Notre Dame has published the first part of an interview with Jeffrey Tucker. Much as we might regret it, we cannot just launch straight back into Latin everywhere, more's the pity:

JJ: One of the things that we are constantly asking ourselves at Notre Dame is how to take the repertoire that Catholics have grown up with since Vatican II and use what’s already there to build off of towards a full experience of the Church’s musical tradition. Where do you think the inroads are?

JT: I think what we are doing has to build off of the current experience and repertoire. I can tell you from long experience, because the question you are asking right now has been at the core of my strategic and theoretical thinking for the last ten years. It cannot begin with Latin; it has to begin with English. The reason is that language is absolutely essential to the way we think, who we are, and how we regard ourselves as a people. It’s so closely tied to our identity that it’s non-negotiable at this point in history. The church gave us the gift of vernacular with the Second Vatican Council, and it’s not a point to regret, but something we have to deal with. For me, the ideal is always Latin, but it’s ridiculous to think you could start there. You can try to implement the singing of the Mass in Latin and there will be a core of people that will love everything you’re doing, but it will not last because there will be a different core of people that will be deeply offended because they just aren’t ready for it. This is the great mistake, I would say, that was made in the years following the council. There’s a reason why this didn’t happen, but there’s also a tremendous confusion about how the vernacular applies in the liturgy. On one hand you had Vatican II clearly elevate the role of Gregorian chant above which it had ever been elevated in the history of the Church. On the other hand, you had the council give permission for the vernacular, but it was left open exactly how this was to be applied. It is obvious to me that the tension between these two things was not fully anticipated and the Council Fathers were not aware of the tremendous difficulties this would create. Suddenly all the Gregorian chant seemed irrelevant, mainly on the grounds of language.

A few notes for the organist

I suppose a parish priest might give a few verbal pointers to the organist. Play here, don't play here, that sort of thing. Fr Adrian Fortescue went a little bit further. 

The Liber Organi is an incredibly beautiful hand-written book which Fortescue wrote to provide the organist at his church, St Hugh’s in Letchworth, with everything needed to accompany the liturgies. The inside front cover contains a photograph of the church taken in 1916 and the inside back cover contains the author's dedication 'in perpetuity' to St Hugh's.

Now there's an idea

Five Ways to Ruin the Mass

Being the most awesome like liturgical dude like ever

Josef A. Jungmann SJ (1889-1975) was expert in the history of the Roman Rite. (The dates are important because there has been more than one Josef Jungmann SJ). To say he was lionised perhaps will mislead. Leviathanised would be closer the mark. The praise is always fulsome. The blurb at the beginning of this article is a standard example.

Alcuin Reid gives us a couple more. 

An historian, he has unequalled mastery of the complex changes in liturgical forms, but he has a wonderful sense for the abiding values of the Liturgy. With fine discrimination her is able to assess the gains and losses through the centuries and to suggest reforms that will restore to traditional values their pastoral efficacy. A deep pastoral concern pervades all his work.
[Charles Davis preface to the English translation of Odo Casel, The Mystery of Christian Worship, p.xii. Quoted in Alcuin Reid OSB, The Organic Development of the Liturgy, (Farnborough, Hants: St Michael's Abbey Press, 2004) Chapter 3 "The Liturgical movement and Liturgical Reform form from 1948 to the Second Vatican Council", "Introduction", p.134, fn.5.]

And another one: 

There is mighty little that he holds that anybody would be inclined to dispute; for he seems to come as near to omniscience on this subject as is humanly possible … Jungmann's conclusions are pretty well universally accepted by the pundits. He is THE great man of the day.
 [Clifford Howell SJ in "The Parish in the Life of the Church" in Living Parish Series, Living Parish Week, p.23. Quoted in Alcuin Reid OSB, ibid., "Josef Andreas Jungmann SJ", p.152.]

How can anyone survive that sort of praise?

(Clifford Howell's The Work of Our Redemption  is available online.)

Octaves, Novenas and Ecclesiastical Arithmetic

Easter Sunday has an octave, discussed by Fr. Guy Nicholls of the Birmingham Oratory. This means the days after Easter Sunday have the same weight in the Liturgy as any Sunday. Other Feasts used to have an octave also. Easter in fact has an octave of octaves with the Easter season although Eastertide is not as grand as the Easter Octave nor of course Easter Sunday itself.  Try not to think too hard about the fact that this ends on Pentecost, a day which means fiftieth (days are counted inclusively) and an octave of octaves ought to be sixty-four.

Pentecost used to have an octave. The vestments were red, as for Pentecost Sunday. This upset the tidy minded and it was abolished. There is a well attested story about Pope Paul VI's reaction. Fr. Nicholls mentions one reason for the change: "With regard to a pneumatological focus to the liturgy, I find it difficult to see how the pre-Pentecost Novena (as argued by Mgr Bugnini) can adequately replace the weight of the post-Pentecost Octave." This refers to the following passage.

The Easter season lasts fifty days, beginning with the Easter Vigil and ending with Pentecost Sunday.  This is attested by the ancient and universal tradition of the Church, which has always celebrated the seven weeks of Easter as though they were a single day that ends with the feast of Pentecost. For this reason, the octave of Pentecost, which was added to the fifty days of Easter in the sixth century, has been abolished. However, the days from Ascension to Pentecost with their appropriate texts are used as a time of expectation of the Holy Spirit.

Annibale Bugnini, The Reform of the Liturgy, 1948-1975
 (Collegeville Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1990)
Part II "Sections common to the new liturgical books",
Chapter 21 "The calendar" II, p.319.  

There still is a Pentecost Novena, a recollection of the nine days prayer between the Ascension and Pentecost in Acts 1-2. Ascension of course is moved to the nearest Sunday in many territories which mucks up the Novena. Perhaps the point of the move was to justify the abolition of the Pentecost Octave? I jest, I jest.

From what you know to what you don't know

There are plenty of Catholic parishes totally allergic to the use of Latin.  You get the impression they would come out in hives if you just said "in nomine Patris…" Nevertheless, even in such parishes, the original language of the "Lord have mercy", the Greek "Kyrie eleison", is often used. 

 Kyrie eleison consists of a vocative, Kyrie, followed by an aorist imperative eleison. The vocative is the case for addressing someone.  "The Lord sits on high" – "the Lord" is in the nominative; but "Lord have mercy" – "Lord" is in the vocative since he is being addressed or called on (Latin voco I call).  In the indicative mood (the mood used for the verb in basic statements or questions – and for present purposes I am restricting this account to theGreek of the New Testament) the default tense is the present.  Outside of the indicative, for example in the imperative (where we give orders) the default tense is the aorist.  In the indicative the aorist is typically about past time, it is the equivalent of the English simple past (he went there). In Greek, the aorist indicative modifies the beginning of the verb with an augment (usually a short e) which shows that the verb is about the past. In the imperative the aorist has no reference to the time when something takes place or the length of time it takes to occur. For this reason the aorist imperative does not have an augment

We write "Kyrie eleison" in English texts because that is how it is spelt in Latin texts.  In Greek it is Κύριε ἐλέησον which might (I stress might) be more accurately transliterated "Kurïe eleēson".  The exigencies of Roman pronunciation of Greek led to the spelling we use.  The aorist imperative is a bit abrupt. It is the way one addresses a servant.  The possible rudeness of this construction when addressing the Almighty might be explained by remembering that each time we are asking for mercy, we do so because we actually need it right now – not that we are fine for the moment but keep the mercy coming just in case.

ἐλέησον looks like it has an augment (ἐ/e) which is confusing since the ending is an imperative. But don't (as I said above) aorist imperatives lack the augment? They do and in this case the ἐ is not an augment but part of the stem of the verb ἐλέεω "I have mercy on, show pity to". The aorist indicative "I had pity" is ἠλέησα ēleēsa. In this verb past time is indicated by "stretching" the initial "e" so that it becomes long.

When I was teaching Greek I pointed my students to the Eleemosynary Office(s) (search Eleemosynarius and see here) of the Holy See which carry out the Pope's charitable activities to help them remember that ἐλέησον comes from a verb that begins with an epsilon (ε).

Of course that depends on being familiar with that institution. (It is the source of Papal blessings which people give newly weds or couples on their major anniversaries and so on). To Dr Rod Decker (due respect, due respect) of the Baptist Bible Seminary it is an entirely new word. The article he links to is very interesting.

Mass in Space

A Rokuzayemon twofer: Fr John Zuhlsdorf considers how Mass might be celebrated in Space. Follow the links in the comments for similar speculation.

Remember Anamnesis

Behold the homepage of Anamnesis, the bulletin of the liturgical commission of the Polish Bishops' conference. ("Anamnsis" at the top of the page is simply a typo, it is of course simply the Greek word for the memorial sacrifice of Num 10:10, alluded to in Lk 22:19 and 1 Cor 11:25).

In 2004 I discovered that the editio typica tertia of Missale Romanum included some new saints in the calendar. This is the Universal Calendar, also called the General Calendar. Local churches at the diocesan or national level are expected to modify the calendar usually by adding local saints or sometimes by increasing the importance of the celebration.

This being the Missal – to be used at Mass – it does not have texts for the Liturgy of the Hours (the "Divine Office", often simply just the "Office"). Using as a search text the collect (which is the same as the concluding prayer in the Office) of one of the additions to the calendar, I discovered that the Polish Bishops had put the Latin texts of additions to the Divine Office online. Additions to the liturgical books are published in the journal of the Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments, Notitiae which was not, and is not, published online. However all the decrees from the Congregation pertaining to the Universal Church, including such additions to the calendar are, as a matter of course, published in Latin in Anamnesis.


Go to Komisja Kultu Bożego i Dyscypliny Sakramentów Episkopatu Polski (that takes you to the Anamnesis page).  Look at the column on the left hand side of the screen. Indeksy numerów 1-26 takes you to indexes for the first 26 issues. These are not very helpful as they are not hyperlinked. Issues 1-7 are not online. Click on Numer 8 to find out why. "Od Redakcij" means "From the Editor", this issue was published on 1st November 1996. When I refer to the "Editorial" of a given issue of Anamnesis in what follows, I mean whatever you read by clicking on "Od Redakcij".

Also in issue 8, "Przygotowanie do wprowadzania katecumenatu w diecezjach - materiały z Sympozjum Katechumenalnego Sandomierz - 16 i 17 września 1996" is the proceedings (I guess) of a conference held on and 17th September on the history of the rites of initiation. "Informacje" means "Information". "Spis treści means "table of contents". Click on that and you will get links to two pdfs, one of which is in dear old English, and we read:

After publication of seven issues of Anamnesis (1994-1996) – Bulletin of the Polish Episcopal Commission for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments which was designed for the Polish Bishops – a new edition of Anamnesis is being started which is addressed to people responsible for liturgy and liturgical pastoral care in the Church in Poland, anxious for more intense renewal of the Church by more conscious, active and deepened participation of all the Christians in the Liturgy. The editorial design is to create a meeting forum for the two directions of the liturgical renewal: the one “from above” (institutional) and one “from below”.

The editorials are often undated so it is hard to determine the frequency. The editorial for issue 20 is dated 28th November 1999.

The important thing for our purposes (well, OK, my purposes) is what is usually the first section of an issue of Anamnesis: Dokumenty Stolicy Apostolskiej - Documents of the Apostolic See. These are typically decress from the Congregation DWDS. Number 22 contains the authorisation for the Polish texts for the office of Blessed Pius of Pietrelcina (as he then was, i.e. Padre Pio). The decree from the Vatican is dated 26th November 1999, but the editorial is dated 1st June 2000. The series is clearly not regular since issue 26 has an editorial dated 2nd June 2001 and there is clearly a lag between the promulgation of the decree and its publication in Anamnesis. Issue 31 has an editorial dated 18th May 2002 but its URL suggests that it has been linked to by mistake because the filename for the PDF is "Anamnesis30-0aRed" which is also what you get when you click through from "Od Redakcij" for issue 30. Issue 32 has an editorial dated November 16th 2002.

I labour over Anamnesis 31 because the second pdf among the Dokumenty Stolicy Apostolskiej in that issue is Dodatki do Liturgii Godzin - Additiones ad Liturgiam Horarum. This is the text in Latin of the additions to the Liturgy of the Hours made with the 3rd edition of Missale Romanum by a decree of the Congregation dated 18th December 2001. The next issue (32) contains the texts for the Mass and Office of Padre Pio decreed by the Congregation on 26th June 2002. Finally on 12th February 2004 the Congregation published texts for the Liturgies of St Juan Diego Cuauhtlotoatzin and Our Lady of Guadalupe.

So far as I can tell there have been no additions to the Universal Calendar since 2004. Granted you have to wrestle with Polish but Anamnesis is a useful resource.

Preaching and the Biblical Languages

The Rev. Gerald Ambulance discusses the problem of preaching.

Greek is another good time-killer. Try this kind of thing: "Now the word translated 'preaching' here is the Greek word kerygma. And that comes from the verb kerysso, meaning 'to preach'. So when St Paul says 'preaching', what that word really means is 'preaching'." (Stephen Tomkins, My Ministry Manual by Rev. Gerald Ambulance, p.31).

Rod Decker, Preaching and the Biblical Languages: Garnish or Entrée Mellon or Mantra? has a more serious approach.

Some extracts.

Forty years ago as a college and seminary student I was a cook. I worked in various types of kitchen settings: short order, line cook, and commercial dining rooms. In most such situations we were concerned that the plate we served look nice. Part of the “dressing” was some sort of garnish—a sprig of parsley, a spiced apple ring, a lemon curl, etc. The garnish was not part of the nutritional value of the meal. We did not intend that our customers eat the parsley. It just looked nice. What we wanted them to eat was the entrée. Whether that was a juicy steak grilled to perfection or a chicken breast stuffed and wrapped and prepared just so, we took great pains that it be good quality, tender, and tasty. We did not, however, carry it to their table on a greasy spatula or in a crusty roasting pan. We served the finished product in an appealing, ready-to-eat form. That setting provides my analogy. 

The biblical languages should not function merely as a garnish. Too often pastors pay only lip service to the biblical languages. They may acknowledge that they are important—at least to the commentary writer. They expect others to do the dirty work so that they can garnish their sermons with impressive-sounding jargon, a sprig of Greek parsley. “In the original Greek this is an ‘ā-or-ist’ tense, therefore it means [such and such.]” Or they add a lemon curl. “The Greek perfect mood proves that we were saved in the past and will be eternally secure forever.” Or for a real “ringer” (i.e., a spiced apple ring garnish), “This word in the original Greek is number 4352 which is a compound of 4314 and 2965, so it means to lick God’s hand like a puppy dog.” All such statements are merely attempts to sound impressive or to wield the Greek as an authority club. They prove nothing and do not add anything to understanding the meaning of the text. That is neither the purpose nor the value of the biblical languages.

The languages are much more like the entrée than the garnish. They are not the entrée as such, but the tools used to prepare the entrée. We do not feed God’s people with Greek and Hebrew. What goes on the sermonic plate is an appetizing, tender piece of meat. If we are ministering in an English-speaking context, that means that the entrée—the biblical content—must be explained in relatively simple English that our audience can understand. Just as the goal of a vernacular translation of the Bible is communication, so the goal of a biblical sermon must be the communication of the Bible’s message in language that our audience can understand.

He then discusses the Doors of Durin in The Lord of the Rings. (It seems even Baptists are not immune to the lure of Tolkien.) Just as the Fellowship needed to say the Elvish word for "friend" mellon, to enter Moria, so "it is through the door of the biblical languages that we enter (certainly as friends!) into the Scriptures".

On the other hand, we ought not make the biblical languages, as important as they are, into a mantra (the last part of my subtitle). Some people, being firmly convinced of the general argument that I have proposed thus far, use the biblical languages, not as a mellon, but as a mantra. They are certainly sincere and they have commendably placed a high priority on the biblical languages, but they then go one step too far in making the tools of exegesis into the gadgets of homiletics. Just as a mantra refers to something repeated continually, so these preachers continually inflict their audience with Greek and Hebrew. They preach Robertson and Danker and Wallace in their efforts to preach Christ. Their sermons contain profuse reference to Greek and Hebrew words, to technical grammatical description, to diachronic etymologies, and even verb parsings. Some even imply to God’s people that they should (or even must) learn Greek if they are going to understand Scripture and become spiritually mature. Their churches become language institutes and their pulpits become lecterns.

According to the epilogue to Decker's paper, Dr Christopher Cone, at the same conference, argued that it is the job of preachers to teach their audiences the Biblical languages, textual criticism, genre, and so on.

God revealed Himself using language. That he revealed Himself in such a way has tremendous implications for teaching. God expected that His audience would be sufficiently skilled in the principles of the languages He used so that they could understand His meaning. We all need to understand how to understand God’s word. We all need to know how to handle variants, translations, background, rhetorical structure, grammar, syntax, vocabulary, and context.

"We all"? Everyone needs to be able to cope with textual criticism, ancient genres etc not to mention the languages? How shall we be saved?

What Cone and, to a lesser extent, Decker do, is confuse preaching the words of God with preaching the Word of God. They come rather close to the Mahometan approach of treating a particular language (at least two languages so far as Christians are concerned) as the very language of the Almighty.

Almost ten years ago, as friends of mine were ordained to the diaconate, I was always writing the following passage in greeting cards, from St Gregory the Great (Hom. in Ev. xvii) used in the Office for St Luke on 18th October.

For our Lord follows in the wake of those who preach him, since preaching paves the way, and then our Lord himself comes to make his dwelling-place in our hearts. First come the words that exhort us, and then by means of them truth is received into the mind. It was for this reason that Isaiah [40:3] commanded preachers: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight the paths of our God." For the same reason too the psalmist gives them the order: "Make a highway for him who goes on high above the setting sun" (Ps 67:5/68:4). 

Msgr. Charles Pope discusses this passage.

Chant Café has good word for promoters of Liturgical pop

Music that Broadens the Mind and Spirit

Over the years, I’ve had many people say to me, when discovering that I’m a Catholic musician, some version of the following: “I’ve learned to wince whenever I see that a chosen hymn was composed after 1965. I shut my book and try to brace myself until it goes away.”

I’m supposed to agree with this point of view, and I do sympathize with the feeling because I felt this way for years. But more and more, I find that these sorts of comments bother me. Most of the musicians singing post-1965 material are doing their best to make a contribution, and loathing their output can tend towards cultivating divisive antipathies.

Few of these musicians have any idea how many people are rubbed the wrong way by varieties of pop music at Mass. Plus, it seems like an odd demand that Mass should only have music written between, say 1850 and 1965. In the long history of the faith, that is a very small slice of time.

More substantially, the debate over hymns completely misses the essential point that has become more obvious over the last few years. The truth is this: the hymn war distracts from the core issue, which is whether we will sing what the liturgy is asking to be sung or whether we will sing something else. The Mass assigns texts throughout the year for the precise parts of the liturgy where hymns are often inserted.

The solution of course is the Roman Gradual (after all, this is the Chant Café) and use of the Mass propers, not the hymn sandwich.

[The Mass propers are those bits in the Mass which change from day to day. Here it refers to those parts sung by the choir or people (not the priest), printed in a book called the Roman Gradual. They are invariably replaced by a hymn or simply spoken.]

Christ the King propers are different from Advent which are different from Christmas and so on. They are all chosen with precision by the Church for a particular liturgical purpose. Therefore, they not only open the word of God to us; they also provide another means of spiritually accessing the overall liturgical experience in a way that accords with the calendar.

Discovering the Mass propers is a liberating experience, very much along the lines of what people feel when they first discover the Catholic faith itself. We don’t have to make stuff up. We don’t have to manufacture our liturgy from our own sense of how things should be.

Our main responsibility is to bury the ego, defer to the Church’s wishes, allow ourselves to become part of something larger than our own time and place, and serve the faith. This is a huge responsibility. Singing the propers makes being a Church musician and honor and a serious apostolate.

Msgr Gromier and the Restored Holy Week

I have for years been pushing the conférence of Msgr Léon Gromier, a Master of Ceremonies for Pius XII, on the restoration of Holy Week from the fifties. That was all I knew about him. Fr Christopher Smith provides more information as well as discussing Gromier's arguments.

One of the more interesting parts of the talk is when [Gromier] takes issue with the adjective solemn as applied in the 1955 Reform.  He writes, “The solemnity of liturgical services is not an optional decoration; it is of the nature of the service … Outside of this, so-called solemnity is not an amplifying enticement, to impress and score the goal … we made a prodigious use of the word solemn even for necessarily or intrinsically solemn acts.  We use words, believing that we can put more solemnity into the Procession of Palms than into that of Candlemas, more solemnity into the Procession of Maundy Thursday than that of Good Friday (abolished as we shall see).  Always on the same slippery slope, we learn that the Passion of Good Friday is sung solemnly, as if it could be sung in another fashion.”

Here Gromier identifies a crucial characteristic of the Reformed Liturgy that I had never been able to put into words.  Theologians often talk about the svolta antropologica, a man-centered volte-face of theology after Rahner.  Here we have a clear liturgical complement.  Solemnity no longer arises from the nature of the Christological mystery being celebrated, but of how we go about celebrating it, and what we do to celebrate it.  The Eucharistic Processions of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday were solemn before because of their reference to Christ being carried to and from the Sepulchre.  After 1955, Maundy Thursday remains solemn because incense and song and candles accompany the Procession.  Good Friday ceases to be so because those things that we do are omitted.  I think this is a point worthy of further reflection.  How often in our parishes, basilicas and papal liturgies have we seen attempts at solemnization of the liturgy interpreted as our use of Latin, candles and incense rather than the solemn nature of certain ceremonies rising from their intrinsic Christological import?

"Solemnity no longer arises from the nature of the Christological mystery being celebrated, but of how we go about celebrating it, and what we do to celebrate it." We do not add Latin, chant, candles, incense, etc to make a rite solemn. Instead we have these things because the rite is of its nature solemn.

The fad of folk music

A while ago the Chant Café posted a link to an essay by Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo C.S.J. at the Catholic News Agency on Church Music and the Fad of Folk Style, the following week they published a sequel. The essays are rather disjointed: more like a collection of useful quotes for such an essay than the completed work. But they do contain some zingers.

‘Folk’ style in church music is amply represented in The Music Missal (OCP), a flimsy, unattractive, and disposable handbook, which enjoys widespread use and influence. It contains other music like Ordinaries of the Mass, Reformed Protestant hymnody, and Gregorian chants. In no way does this ‘folk’ style, a misnomer, resemble authentic folk music. Whereas genuine folk songs were written by the community and were transmitted by the oral tradition, this material has been written by individuals. Genuine folk songs have a simple, limited melodic range as well as simple rhythm with little or no accompaniment. 

Bingo! She also has some good words to say for the guitar, but not as it is presently used.

The guitar needs to be defended.  It is a serious instrument, not to be trivialized. Belonging to the lute family, the guitar is first and foremost a solitary, gentle, soft-spoken plucked instrument with limited sonority. The lute and the lyra, the kithara and the harp are all related to the guitar (chitarra).  These string families were used in ancient and biblical times to sooth and console their listeners. They can foster meditation and can even mesmerize audiences, but they were not meant to rev them up to a frenzy, whether in a concert hall or in church. Whereas classical guitar is difficult to master, elementary guitar requires a minimum of formal training, and it thrives on basic chords, strumming, thumping, and pounding.

She quotes a reference in Benedict XVI's Milestones: Memoirs 1927-1977 to "the disintegration of the liturgy" and comments:

Disintegration is not a pretty word, but Benedict XVI uses it to capture the liturgical crisis in the Church today.  A thing deteriorates when its natural form is so disfigured that the purpose for which it was intended is no longer recognizable. It is not simply irreverent music. At issue is that the faithful have become ‘the church,’ an alternate church, and they are celebrating themselves through the folly of faddism.

Where got'st thou that Geese Book?

Via the Chant Café, behold the Geese Book, a Gradual from 1510, prepared for a parish in Nuremberg and now in New York.

A multisensory work of the past is explored through multimedia technologies of the present. A team of experts headed by Volker Schier and Corine Schleif opens the Geese Book to scholars and provides a window for broader audiences. Completed in 1510 for the parish of St. Lorenz in Nuremberg, this large-format gradual preserves the mass liturgy that was sung by choir boys until the Reformation was introduced in 1525. Provocative and satirical illuminations include the one from which the book takes its name. Many medieval manuscripts are too valuable and vulnerable to be handled. Digitally, however, these 2 volumes can now be touched by everyone.

This is an example of the sort of thing I meant when I said that once upon a time parishes would spend their income on a proper celebration of the liturgy, not on grandiose side projects.

Paying for Church music

I used to attend Mass at parish in a suburb close to the centre of a particular city. I nearly called it "inner city" but that would suggest poverty when, in fact, the suburb was inhabited by a number of well-heeled young professionals. The land was valuable and the parish leased off part of it in return for a lucrative income. Some bright spark thought it would be a good idea for the parish to spend some of that income on a drop-in-centre for young Catholics working in the city centre. The idea was that they would come in and socialise after work. It was an unhappy decision. The parish was not far from "downtown", but it was scarcely convenient for anyone to come after a hard day's work and before making their weary way way home. The plasma TV and attached games console were barely used and I think the centre is now closed. It occurred to me that, in the old days (at least as far back as the later middle ages), the money would have been spent on paying for a choir. There would be stipends, and clerks, and funny titles, and the rest of it. By now it would be the name of a style to which learned musicians would allude. It might be a famous choir school. At the Chant Café Jeffrey Tucker has a post on How to Have a Good and Stable Choir in your parish.

You need four strong singers who are committed. If you do not have that, you will not have a consistent provision of liturgical music. That’s just the way it is … People with this skill set are not willing to sing consistently without any pay whatsoever. They might do so for a while but they burn out, feel used, and eventually give up. It is all the more annoying that the priest and others look down on them when they throw in the towel, completely forgetting about the countless hours they have spent in the past without pay.

The whole post is interesting, but what really struck me were some of the comments. First some more of Tucker's post:

If you talk to any professional or just experienced music who knows the world of churches, you will find one consistent complaint about the Catholic Church: it does not pay its musicians. Parishes will sometimes pay an organist (not often a full-time salary) and sometimes pay a nominal fee to a director of music (many parishes even expect this to be done by volunteers). But very few pay singers … It is not necessary to pay ever singer. What every choir needs — and here I’m only reporting what every musician knows but very few priests understand — is four solid singers who can lead each sector. These solid singers are called "ringers" or just "section leaders."

These people also make good solo cantors. These can lead the other singers. This doesn’t mean getting rid of volunteers. The amateurs can be great. In fact, I’m constantly amazed at how good non-readers are at mimicking the sound of those they stand next to. They can’t sing a note alone but sound great as part of a section. They desperately need strong singers around them to give lift to their talents … The parish should employ four singers to play this role, chosen mostly by the director. Each singer can be paid $50 per Mass plus rehearsal once per week. This is terrible pay, to be sure. But it takes the sting out the time commitment. It makes people feel valued. It allows the parish to expect things from the singer. Everyone is happy. The music problem goes away — or perhaps the biggest problems in the music area go away.

One commenter suggests that ringers might encourage laziness and that volunteers are probably the way to go.

But the best solution is also the hardest: a cheerful, welcoming, religious, and encouraging director with the Holy Spirit willing to invest several years to develop, and willing also to be patient with the journey to get there. 

And you hope this Music Director you have been lucky enough to find, doesn't have to move away, get sick, die, lose the faith. Because if any of those things happen you have to try your luck again. Another suggests that Tucker (as the Germans say) sucked this one out of his fingernails.

Have you ever managed college kids at a McD's or KMart? Their work ethic, voice or music majors or not, isn't exemplary. Imagine you've planned and rehearsed all year for Allegri's MISERERE for G[ood] F[riday], and your section leader soprano has the C3 [i.e the top C which occurs several times in that piece, starting just before the two minute mark in the linked video], and you've got the rest of the quire all pumped up to do this high water mark. And Wednesday, she calls you and informs you her mom wants her in Reno on Thursday for Easter weekend. This kind of thing goes on with our volunteers, for sobbing out loud, not to mention kids getting a paltry 50 for Sunday AND a rehearsal? Oh, and they tend to move around a lot, whether in 2 or 4 year programs. Oh, and some of them never pass Theory 1A or sight singing because they've skated by in MS/HS being coached and coddled by teachers who don't teach and parents that know they'll be on and WIN American Idol, the Voice, or the X Factor.

And then there is this.

I have always found it ironic that the church expects musicians to spend thousands of dollars getting trained and then volunteer their services. The guy painting the sacristy is not volunteering ... the plumber? the person who shovels the snow? There is also no expectation on the numerous people the church regularly hires to prepare for two or more hours prior to coming to work today. Maybe if I had to haul my voice around in a truck with a sign painted on it, or bring it out of a special carrying case so that it looked as expensive as it really is. 

Unless your parish has a large stable income through historic real estate acquisition or something (see Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars (1992), passim) the answer is probably monks and lots of them. Mind you that seems to be my answer to everything at the moment.

My Yoke Is Easy, My Burden Light.

From time to time I have been invited to weddings on Sundays – typically in the early afternoon – at which a Nuptial Mass is celebrated. All Catholics are obliged to attend Mass on Sundays but, by a special rule, one can fulfil one's obligation by attending Mass on Saturday evening. The propers of that Mass (readings, changeable prayers etc.) are almost always the same as those of the Sunday, even though it is on Saturday evening. Mutatis mutandis this applies for those Feasts designated "Holy Days of Obligation" ("Days of Precept" in the old terminology) which happen to fall on a weekday. In Australia such occasions are limited to Christmas Day and the Solemnity of the Assumption on August 15th.

I had always assumed that, to fulfil an obligation to hear Mass on a given day, Catholics must hear the Mass of that day. Wedding Masses have their own prayers and readings, therefore a Wedding Mass on a Sunday would not fulfil my Sunday obligation, and so I would still have to attend Mass elsewhere on Sunday morning or Saturday evening. With the children, and dressing for the wedding, and so on, this can be quite tough.

It turns out my assumption is false. Edward Peters (whom I mentioned the other day) explains things.

…a few folks who correctly remind others that there are two attendance obligations coming up seem also to assert that the type of Mass attended determines which attendance obligation can be satisfied thereat, as in, for example, a Mass of Anticipation for the Second of Advent, celebrated at 5 pm next Saturday, can only be applied toward one’s Sunday obligation, not toward Immaculate Conception. That’s an error arising from confusing the canonical obligation on people to attend Mass with the liturgical obligation on priests to celebrate the Mass called for by the rubrics. The people’s canonical obligation to attend Mass is satisfied by their “assisting at a Mass celebrated anywhere in a Catholic rite on the [day required] or in the evening of the preceding day…” (c. 1248 § 2). The law says nothing about what type of Mass is celebrated, only, that it must be a Mass in a Catholic rite.

A Canon Lawyer on the Catholic Answers forum came to a different conclusion. Peters responds to his arguments (references at the link).

The Church imposes an obligation to attend Mass-on-Sunday (a phrasing I prefer because so many people take the requirement “to go to Sunday Mass” to mean “to go to Mass as celebrated on Sunday with the Sunday readings etc.”, which is to prejudice the very point in question) and recognizes the 24-hour period known as Sunday as being available for one to fulfill that obligation. In that respect, then, not only have we an obligation to attend Mass-on-Sunday, but we have a right to fulfill that obligation within a set 24-hour period. Now, just very recently in Church history, the Church has offered us the option of fulfilling our Mass-on-Sunday obligation during some hours on Saturday. We now have extra time in which to fulfill an obligation, but—and here’s the key—having the option of satisfying one’s Mass-on-Sunday obligation on a Saturday in no way deprives us of the right to fulfill our Mass-on-Sunday obligation anytime during the 24 hours of Sunday. Else, the granting of an option with one hand would be to deprive us of a right with the other. Canon law does not work that way.

Scrooge on the second Sunday of Advent

Yes, deep down, if I had the hide, this is probably me.

When someone says “Merry Christmas” even five minutes before sunset on Dec. 24, remind them that “Advent is a season of penance, fasting and prayer, to remind us of the hopeless misery of the human condition that Christ came to rectify—for those who accept Him. But the path is straight, and narrow, and few do travel it.” Then smile and say “But hey, Merry Christmas!”

This, perhaps not so much:

If you must play host to the family, insist on making this Christmas more authentic. No ham, no turkey, no stuffing—just Middle Eastern foods like roasted goat. No “secularized” Christmas carols, either: just Melkite and Maronite hymns, or (as a concession) a Gregorian chant CD of the Christmas Mass, played over and over again. Pop in a DVD of The Passion of the Christ, reminding the wee ones, “This is the reason for the season.” Then go smoke your cigar on the porch.