Ordinarily the chants of the Mass ought to be sung, whether in the Ordinary or the Extraordinary Form.
On those occasions when hymns are sung at Mass–and let’s be honest, we all do it–how do we choose among the hundreds of thousands of hymns available?
Pope Benedict XVI addressed this question in his post-synodal Exhortation Sacramentum Caritatis, paragraph 42:
In the ars celebrandi,liturgical song has a pre-eminent place. Saint Augustine rightly says in a famous sermon that “the new man sings a new song. Singing is an expression of joy and, if we consider the matter, an expression of love.” The People of God assembled for the liturgy sings the praises of God. In the course of her two-thousand-year history, the Church has created, and still creates, music and songs which represent a rich patrimony of faith and love. This heritage must not be lost. Certainly as far as the liturgy is concerned, we cannot say that one song is as good as another. Generic improvisation or the introduction of musical genres which fail to respect the meaning of the liturgy should be avoided. As an element of the liturgy, song should be well integrated into the overall celebration. Consequently everything — texts, music, execution — ought to correspond to the meaning of the mystery being celebrated, the structure of the rite and the liturgical seasons. Finally, while respecting various styles and different and highly praiseworthy traditions, I desire, in accordance with the request advanced by the Synod Fathers, that Gregorian chant be suitably esteemed and employed as the chant proper to the Roman liturgy.
Some would say that the best examples of hymns are those that imitate the proper texts themselves.
Others might say that the best hymns for Mass are the rich patrimony of office hymns.
The problem with these two ideals are that they leave out most of the hymns that are actually sung in the best English-speaking music programs in the Church–another kind of ideal, and also compelling: the exemplars of our own time. Hymns like Praise to the Lord, Holy God (a versification of the great hymn Te Deum), Holy Holy Holy, and Come Down O Love Divine are neither office hymns nor textually nor musically close to the proper texts. Does this mean they are unsuited for liturgy, or are they part of the patrimony?
I desire, in accordance with the request advanced by the Synod Fathers, that Gregorian chant be suitably esteemed and employed as the chant proper to the Roman liturgy.
Depends on the meaning of
'is''employed.'When hymns like the good ones you mention are sung outside of mass (entrance and final hymns) I consider them to be like preludes and postlude of the faithful. They complement the mass, and add to the beauty of the sacred music.
You from New England? That is, if they'dah stahted theh. They got to a place they oughtn't by stahtin' heh. (I'm from Maine, where it seems we tend to add syllables, so it might read: You can't get theyah from heyah.)
"Consequently everything — texts, music, execution — ought to correspond to the meaning of the mystery being celebrated, the structure of the rite and the liturgical seasons."
When it comes to singing hymns at Mass, whether or not "we all do it", the Holy Father suggests we keep this objective criteria in mind, as much as possible. Objectively, the structure of the Eucharistic rite does not involve hymns per se. Spiritually, aesthetically, and, I dare say, practically, hymns can correspond to the meaning of the mystery and to the liturgical season. The question remains whether they should necessarily and regularly trump the chants that are proper to the rite, or some facsimile thereof. It would seem to me incumbent upon liturgically educated pastors and music directors to at least ask the question, despite and in the face of what "we all do".
Hymns and other non-prescribed music fulfill what seems to me to be an intrinsic human urge, which I like to call the "troping instinct."
The history of church music clearly demonstrates that people have a strong desire to adorn the liturgical ceremonies with texts and musics above and beyond what is proscribed. Although troping is said to have begun in the middle ages, it is hard to believe that in the preceding era, when the chant was still an improvisatory, oral tradition, singers did not elaborate textually and musically on what had been handed down to them. In fact, it is not unreasonable to imagine the proper chants themselves as having appeared in similar way to tropes: "the liturgy would be more beautiful if some thing appropriate to this feast were sung here, thus let us add (insert scripture passage here)."
While the propers could be taken as a sort of beginning level, scriptural troping, the early canticles of the church are an example of the next level of the "troping instinct:" the creation of original poetry. As theology developed, is it not natural that new liturgical texts were created which elaborated and lauded God in light of these developments? The office hymn is probably the greatest example of this. With St. Ambrose standing as the father of western hymnody, creative work in this vein continues into even the seventeenth century (Te Joseph celebrent comes to mind).
While the artistic genre of the office hymn has little bearing on the mass directly, the troping urge can still be seen through the whole era of office hymn creating: even after Trent. Texts extraneous to the mass were still in use through the popularity of the motet, while music, especially instrumental music, grew in its ability to express the grandeur or intimacy of the mass's theological nuances.
In short, the human instinct to add something non-essential – something not prescribed – to the mass, either as a textual or musical gloss, is an instinct which has continually manifested itself in the history of sacred music.
Viewed in that tradition, hymnody can – and probably should (well, let's be honest: it already has) – take its place among the other musical genres present at mass. Aside from the pastoral considerations of "gettin' ev'rybody involved," (and a sturdy, metrical hymn is still the best way to get a large body of people to sing together – take a look at European national anthems if you need more evidence), hymns can do things that the proper chants cannot. Musically there is more to work with – an Introit covering a long procession can only bear so much repetition before becoming dreadfully tedious; a good hymn can be put through all sorts of musical permutations that allow it to remain interesting and fresh after five verses. Also, the really fine hymns express Christian theology which the biblical propers did not yet grasp. At Christmas, the grand images in "Of the Father's Love Begotten" or the Nicean assertions of "O Come, All Ye Faithful" are more effective in teaching the faithful the truths of the Nativity than any number of excellent homilies. (Moreover, hymns stick with people. We can quote the poetry from memory – but who memorizes a homily? – my apologies to pastors everywhere . . .) And so on with most of the great feasts of the calendar. In this sense, hymnody is more liturgical than motets, as it can, to some degree, be coordinated with the liturgical calendar. Motets are more often only very vaguely suited to the liturgical date, and partly because their texts are shorter, and have less chance to encompass the multiple dimensions of a feast.
The authority of the proper chants, of course, is that by their great age and scripturalness, they represent the apostolic, or at least patristic, interpretation of the various ecclesiastical feasts, both musically and textually. It is a massive tragedy that the faithful are not nourished by this repertoire. Even without the chant, the theological attitude fostered by the proper texts teach us a liturgical attitude toward God; an attitude which, if descended from the apostles and church fathers, is the only orthodox liturgical attitude.
Substituting other music and texts for the proper chants thus walks us farther and father away from what should in fact be the center and life spring of all creative endeavors for the liturgy. And it should also be noted that I describe the "troping instinct" as adding something to what is liturgically "proscribed." The minor propers should be considered a proscribed part of the mass, and it is one of the great tragedies of the Pauline missal that they are not.
The chant, in its purity, is truly a monastic thing. In places employing professional musicians, music has always been more elaborate than what is found in the Graduale Romanum. Whether it was the improvisation of the Gregorian era; the organum of the middle ages; the polyphony of the Renaissance; the figured music of the baroque; the orchestras of the classical and romantic eras; or the accompanied plainsong of the twentieth century, musicians were never satisfied with the pure, monodic line of the chant. Humanity's God given creativity insists on something more.
While monastic monody is as necessary for the musical health of the church as temperance and fasting is for the body and soul, I do not think it means that we cannot eat steak and lobster sometimes.
Hymnody is a parochial thing. In the middle ages chant flourished; Catholicism was centered around religious houses and cathedrals with their chapters. Today, Catholicism is overwhelmingly parochial, with even most cathedrals featuring parishes, rather than chapters. The reality is that regular, metrical music is the best music for a large body of people. As my former teacher would emphatically state, "that is not opinion, that is FACT." And as long as Catholicism remains populist and parochial, metrical hymnody will be irreplaceable. With a tradition of metered, congregational singing at mass that stretches back to at least late medieval Germany, hymnody is a tried and true solution.
When the hymns are theologically sound, high in literary value, and strong in musical construction; when they are of such quality as to be a positive effect in the congregation's formation; and when the proper chants (or at least texts) are retained to provide continuity with the time-less Church; then I think that hymns cannot be denied a place among the musical genres present at a mass.
This may be the last opinion anyone here wants to hear, but I believe that Kathleen's question begs forth a very large ecclesialogical conundrum: do or will we concede that a very substantial need exists to tailor parish/cathedral practicum in an articulated and , arggghhh, hospitable intention to (I hate this) accomodate the tastes, exegencies, attractions of the PIPs to whatever musical/liturgical genre that suits their inclination to show up for (ostensibly) the REAL PRESENCE of God inarcarnate as they understand Him?
One thing we cannot deny- the RCC is the Mother of All Inculturation. Did that stop with Pius X, or did he just remind us that we have "somewhat" of a native ritual culture endorsed by tradition? We done been down that road with Pius V.
What really cogent argument ignores the realities of life in the post OF era?
OK, Charles, I'll take that up, as the loyal opposition.
If the Mass is the re-presentation of the Sacrifice of Calvary (and it is), and real active participation is conforming oneself to Christ in self-sacrifice (and it is,) then the Mass and participation therein is a rejection of the World As We Normally Experience It.
So let's not turn "inculturation" into what it is not. It is not 'conforming the Church to the world.' Rather, it is finding what in the world works toward the Mass' reality and which assists the faithful in genuine active participation therein.
In other words, "in the world, but not of it."
Briefly, the answer to you 'tailoring…hospitable…accomodation' is: nope.
Oh Dad, you're not the loyal opposition, that moniker is held by our friend in Iowa.
I don't and won't disagree with your assessment that a worshipper's heart must be predisposed to a "discipine," nor the notion of other-worldliness as a fit template for woship arts.
But I'm not thinking of inculturation in the sense you portray. That might sound something like a music leader leading a congregation in rapping "Amazing Grace" or some such compatible hymn. Or worse, singing Cortez's "Somos el Cuerpo de Cristo" (which I'm gratified to have never had the misfortune.)
Inculturation could be said to be found in the Hopkins' "Godhead here in hiding" and in its fabricated tune of ADORO TE.
Or in the noble elegance of Richard's SIMPLE CHORAL GRADUAL, which like Gouzes, is evocative of Orthodox homophony.
It might become a "de gustibus" matter when contemplating whether John Bell's abstract "The summons" elevates the mind to "discipline" via the sanguine KELVINGROVE, but it's not too evident of earthbound banality judging how certain of our congregations take up its singing.
Briefly, I think the process is quite a bit more rigorous than your summary.
Well, then. Define "inculturation" so that we both know what we're going to discuss. Your examples are just that: examples. I happen to agree with your take on all of them: good stuff, to borrow a phrase from Robert Shaw.
Related to Mr. O'Donnell's "troping instinct," how's about inculturation: "Let's put this strain into the Petrie dish with this other strain and watch what happens"?
Or this:
"… inculturation is a theological term which has been defined in Redemptoris Missio 52 as the on-going dialogue between faith and culture."–JPII. Benedict XVI was a bit clearer for our purposes: "the inculturation of the faith is necessary, as long as the specificity and the integrity of the "culture of faith" are not compromised"
First off, the term was used–and still is–regarding NON-Western cultures, such as the Japanese, Chinese, various African (etc.), not that of the US. Although Paul used the technique in Athens, Leo XIII would not allow 'westernization' of the Eastern churches.
Secondly, it is also apparent that the Church used what was BEST in those alien cultures for Her purposes.
Taking B-16 seriously (not done by many, I know) we can conclude that Chant & its direct offspring are to be used; hymnody if and only if the Church appropriates the best for Her use, not cheap trinkets, etc.
I rather think we're more in agreement in principle than not.
That said, neither of us are really empowered to sit in the cat-bird seat and declare that Missa Luba fulfils BEST the need for inculturation in tribal Africa but Misa Criolla fails miserably in Latin American venues.
Also, I'm not prepared to concede that inculturation is applied only to NON-Western forms, particularly if the USA is to be considered solely an inheritor to European traditions. Given the very political foundation of the nation of states, it's almost silly to back-track to chant and polyphony only, which are demonstrably collected idioms from all over Eurasia, but distilled by a federal process to be THE "culture of faith" in liturgical forms.
I adhere to that legislation because of the collective wisdom from centuries of magisterial deliberation. But, my work and choices don't happen in a vacuum; they are subject to the review of my clerical masters, so to speak. So, if I were silly enough to program Mike Joncas' latest Babel Mass, I'd expect someone to call into question my qualifications to direct music for the spiritual benefit of our congregations in California.
Yup. In principle, we are on the same page.
By the way, I didn't make up that stuff about Leo and the Eastern churches.
Singing Office Hymns at Mass further takes us further away from liturgy that fills the day and instead puts the Mass on an even higher pedestal, enshrining it even further the "one size fits all" solution.
The Novus Ordo Mass has become the universal flesh colored bandage used to protect and heal any injury. Individual liturgies, novenas and such, have been decimated. Now it is suggested that instead of singing the music the Church composed, and the texts as well for the Mass, Office Hymns be inserted into the Mass.
Why look forward to singing the Magnificat in the liturgy of the hours when we can just sing it at Mass?
Hymns have a very strong, defined place in the liturgy. Cutting and pasting them into other liturgical celebrations further weakens the structure and intent of the Church in its long studied creation of the liturgy.
This all adds up to making the Mass much like the drive-through funeral parlors. Why get out of the car and meet with the family when you can just….drive through.
There is another possibility that I don't think has been mentioned. The opening song at Mass is the introit which is from the psalms. There are good metrical versions of the psalms, based on hymn tunes that are singable. The same might be done for the offertory. The communion psalm, if it has not been sung during communion, might serve as a [metrical]exit hymn.