Chant Doesn’t Really Mean Chant?

The new translation of the General Instruction changed the translation of the Latin word “cantus” from song to chant. This led to a flurry of questions to the liturgy office US Conference of Catholic Bishops.

Perhaps musicians had a sudden sense that there was some appointed music that they were supposed to be singing that they weren’t singing. Perhaps, many wondered, there is more to Catholic music at Mass than just picking four hymns out of a commercially produced product and using them as filler music? Perhaps there is something serious and substantive associated with singing at Mass?

Well, the USCCB took on the question and gave the following Q&A in the January 2012 bulletin of the liturgy office.

Does the use of the word “chant” in the Roman Missal forbid hymnody during the Entrance and Communion processions?

No, the use of the word “chant” is a title for all sung pieces. The Secretariat has had numerous inquiries regarding the significance of this change in translation and its implications in liturgical practice. The 1985 edition of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM) explained the “entrance song” in terms of antiphons, psalms, or another song. In the revised 2011 GIRM, no. 48 and nos. 86-87 now refer to the “Entrance Chant” and “Communion Chant,” respectively, and give as musical options: antiphons, Psalm chants, or other liturgical chants. While the 2003 GIRM rendered “chant” in lowercase, the new version has capitalized the word.

“Chant” (the translation of the Latin cantus) is intended here to refer not to a particular musical form (e.g., Gregorian chant), but as a general title for any musical piece. This is seen most clearly in the Missal itself. During the Good Friday celebration, the Missal has as a heading for one section, “Chants to Be Sung during the Adoration of the Holy Cross.” The “Chants” that follow include antiphons, the Reproaches, and a hymn. Similarly, in Appendix II, the Rite for the Blessing and Sprinkling of Water, a rubric states, “one of the following chants… is sung.” There follows antiphons and a hymn. From these examples, it is clear that the Missal in no way forbids the use of hymns or songs for the Entrance and Communion processions.

Now, what you might take away from that exchange is that there is nothing at all wrong with the 4-hymn convention, that musicians have no need to change anything that they are currently doing. Moreover, you would be left with the impression that there are not appointed chants for these times in the Mass but rather any song will do.

One supposes that perhaps the translators of the GIRM were just ignorant of the English language actually. Does iTunes famously charge 99 cents for a download of every song or “chant?” When you are shopping at the store and hear music by the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, do you think that those are really nice songs or “chants?” When Lady Gaga sings, do you think “that’s a very upbeat chant.”

Obviously, in English, these words are not interchangeable. If chant just means “any musical piece,” the translators must have been really mixed up and are probably incompetent to be in charge of such a translation.

Before we go on and explain the meaning and implications of the word chant here, consider how the phrasing of the question is tailored to match the question. The question is rendered as whether hymns are “forbidden” at the entrance, offertory, and communion. The answer is no. Of course hymns are not forbidden. And guess what? There is not a living soul on the planet who knows the first thing about the ordinary form of the Mass who would argue otherwise. Anyone who thinks hymns are forbidden by law is confused.

Nonetheless, that alone says nothing about what is preferred and its says nothing about hymns replacing the propers of the Mass. Now, there’s a phrase that doesn’t seem to be in the vocabulary of the writer of the above Q&A! The Mass does indeed feature proper texts for the entrance, the offertory, and the communion. You can read about them in the GIRM itself. The first three suggestions for music during these points of the Mass are that the proper text be sung.

And what is the music for these proper texts? It turns that such music does exist. It is found in the Graduale Romanum. This is the music that has been attached to the Mass since the earliest years. There is an entrance, an offertory, and a communion chant for every Mass of the liturgical year. Each has a special text and a special melody. That is an interesting fact. But one would know absolutely nothing about that reality by reading the USCCB’s answer to this question. In fact, you would be led to believe that there are appointed chants but rather that every time the GIRM referred to chant, it was kind of like a typo or translation error. It really means a “musical piece.”

And the appointed chant does in fact have an appointed text. Those texts are the proper texts. They are found in the Graduale and/or the Missale. You can find English chants based on Gregorian melodies. You can find hymns based on those texts. There are whole collections of sung propers in every form you can imagine. When you are singing them, you are singing the Mass texts. Surely that is better than singing any old “musical piece.” In fact, the GIRM clearly seems to favor the appointed text over some random hymn, which is why it repeatedly says to sing the chant.

Makes sense? Of course it makes sense. That does not mean: 1) that a hymn cannot be sung in addition to the chant, or that 2) a hymn cannot licitly replace the appointed text and chant. We know both of these things. This is not news. The news that the USCCB somehow failed to report is that chant actually means something substantive, historical, integral to the rite, and is currently available to be sung by any choir that seeks to sing the actual liturgy rather than just sing something or other.

What a missed opportunity!

But let’s address the paragraph from the USCCB in which the writer marshals evidence from the Missal to support that claim that chant means any musical piece. The chant called Crux Fidelis is traditionally sung during the veneration of the cross. That is a chant. That is in the Missal. It is real chant, with a real history. It is a Gregorian hymn that is very beautiful.

The same is true of the sprinkling rite. The text for Vidi Aquam (inside Easter time) and Asperges (for the rest of the year) are clearly in the Missal. The music for Vidi is even in the Missal for those who want English, and Solesmes has provided a beautiful Asperges in English. These are chants. They are in the Missal. These are real chants, with real histories. They are familiar and very beautiful.

In short, it turns out that chant means chant. To repeat, when the GIRM says sing the chant, it means sing the chant. Such chant does exist. It is not a myth, not made up, not a bad translation of song. True, you can sing a polyphonic setting of the chanted text, and you are permitted to replace the chant with something else, though it is obvious enough (from the whole of legislation including the Vatican Council itself) that doing so is less ideal than singing the actual liturgy itself.

In sum, you have to really stretch the meaning of plain English or not fully understand the history and repertoire of liturgical music in the Roman Rite to claim that there is nothing at all to the word chant. It is true that the the answer above to the question above is technically correct, namely that other hymns are not forbidden. But is that really enough? Have we really done what we ought to do providing what we are doing is not technically banned? Surely liturgical musicians need a higher standard.

When the Church says “sing the chant,” it turns out the Church really does mean sing the chant.

What Should a Sacred Music Commission Say?

Valentín Miserachs, head of the Pontifical Institute of Sacred Music, has repeated his call for a Vatican commission to pronounce on the problem of music in Catholic liturgy. Like many others, he has expressed great regret at the loss of Gregorian chant, and speaks of the widespread ignorance of music among so many. He decries the “anarchy” that persists in parishes and cathedrals around the world, by which he means the tendency for musicians to pull out any music they want and sing it during the processions of the Mass (entrance, offertory, and communion).

In this latest interview with Rome Reports, Msgr. Miserachs speaks of the continuing rumours that just such a commission is in the works. I’ve heard the same rumours. And surely something along these lines is in the works.

This raises a question. What would or should the commission say? You can fill up several volumes of books with existing authoritative pronouncements on the topic. If they were followed, there would be problem to pronounce on at all. Even if you repeated the actual words of the second Vatican Council, along with the writings of the Popes that followed until the present, and these words were implemented, there would be no confusion, no anarchy, no issue to solve.

What can a new commission do that these other teachings have not done? It could offer stern and ever more incontrovertible language on the first place of Gregorian chant in the liturgy. But my prediction is that even a tightening of existing language — I’m not sure what a tightening would even read like — will not cause needed change. In fact, nothing would change.

You only have to think about your own parish environment. The hymnals that the choir uses most likely have no Gregorian chant in them, apart from a simple version of the Mass ordinary and a few chant hymns. Sometimes pieces from this small group of chants are brought out during Lent. Would expanding the options available be the magic bullet? I seriously doubt it.

In any case, the core of the problem is not so much within the ordinary parts of the Mass but during the entrance, offertory, and communion. These are the times when the musical path wanders far away from the liturgical ideal.

At a Mass I attended on the first Sunday of Lent, for example, the choir sang a processional that had nothing to do with Lent, fully three offertory songs that were unrelated to the liturgy or (in the case of one of them) even to Christianity (so far as I could tell), and the communion song shouted repeatedly that “God is amazing!” but I failed to find that text anywhere in my liturgical books.

So let’s say you went up to this choir leader in charge and said: “Instead of those crazy songs, you really should be singing Gregorian chant, just as the Vatican demands.” Would this song leader have any clue at all where to begin? He would not have the music in front of him. He wouldn’t know what to sing and when. As for the official chant books such as the Graduale or the Gregorian Missal, the notation and the language are completely foreign to him. He would be totally clueless how to actually implement the demand.

This situation is true in probably three quarters of American parishes today, and even those parishes where there is a Gregorian schola, there are other Masses controlled by the Life Teen band or some other guitar group that wants nothing whatever to do with chant and refuses even to learn what it is all about. They won’t budge. I’m going to estimate that a strict demand for Gregorian chant will help reinforce those who are already doing it, but I seriously doubt that it will make much difference in those sectors where it is not currently be done.

A commission that made a grand statement in favor of chant would be great. For that statement to be widely ignored, just as all existing statements since 1963 and before are ignored, would not be great. It would be very bad because it would be yet another occasion in which the teaching authority of the Church would be undermined. In this case, it would be undermined not by open defiance so much as total ignorance about the meaning and implications and implementations of the statement itself.

For that reason, of course, such a statement would have to be seriously qualified. It would have to make room for polyphony and new compositions — a necessary exception. It would also have to be sensitive to the needs of parishes in mission territories that have no tradition of chant at all and yet embed within the liturgy authentic expressions and styles of local piety. In these vulnerable communities, it would be unpastoral and probably greatly mistaken suddenly to impose a new form and style where it has never been known before.

Once the exceptions have been admitted, the document would then have to make some strong statements about the meaning and purpose of sacred music, and specifically pronounce on the styles and approaches that are truly unworthy of the liturgy. And yet, that has been done before! John Paul II repeatedly stressed the need to “purify worship from ugliness of style, from distasteful forms of expression, from uninspired musical texts which are not worthy of the great act that is being celebrated.”

Here again, musicians around the world will feel free to ignore all of this. They know full well that all these statements in the past have contained small loopholes that allow them freedom to sing something else. They know that they do not have the skill to accomplish authentic chant. They know that implementation of all of this will depend on the cooperation of the publishers, and that the publishers care essentially nothing for the spirit of this legislation and these statements and instead seize on the loopholes to continue their games.

Is this a counsel of despair? No. Absolutely not. There is a way out of this whole problem. Interestingly, it is not through further pronouncements on music and musical style. The Church needs to change its current legislation dating from 1967 that permits other texts to replace the proper texts of the Mass.

The problem text came in section 32 of Musicam Sacram: “The custom legitimately in use in certain places and widely confirmed by indults, of substituting other songs for the songs given in the Graduale for the Entrance, Offertory, and Communion, can be retained according to the judgement of the competent territorial authority.”

This sentence seems innocuous. It’s tempting to read past it. Should a legitimate custom be retained? Sure, why not? Actually, what this sentence permitted, for the first time in the history of the universal Church, was the complete throwing out of the Mass propers that had been largely stable throughout the whole history of the Roman Rite and formed the basis of Gregorian chant in the first place. The “indult” quickly became the universal practice.

This is the sentence that needs to be repealed, erased, and replaced, because it is this sentence that unleashed the musical chaos and confusion. This is the reason for why the choir is free to totally ignore the liturgy and sing any old song that they happen to have handy in place of the actual text that the liturgy is asking us to sing.

Any Vatican commission on music that is actually effective in our times needs to state very plainly, admitting no exceptions, that this universal practice of throwing out Mass propers in favor of just about anything is absolutely repealed. It must state very plainly that the proper text of the Mass, whether drawn from the Missal or Roman Gradual or from the Simple Gradual, must be the text that is sung. Period. Only after this text is sung in some setting may other songs be introduced.

This one step, which interestingly speaks not to music but to text, would completely change the musical culture of the entire Roman Rite through the whole world. It would mean that the hymnals that choirs use would not be useful for fulfilling this mandate. It would mean that the choirs would have to buckle down and learn new music. They would need to learn some chant in either English or Latin. They would discover that they have responsibilities to the liturgy and not just to their own performance needs. It would draw together the work of the sanctuary with that of the loft.

The document would need to state this in black ink and stark terms. And this is all that the statement would need to do. It would not need to restate what has already been stated a thousand times. Instead, it would repeal the one loophole that allows nearly the whole of the Catholic musical world to freely ignore any and all statements about Gregorian chant and sacred music that have been made throughout history.

It would be a fresh and inspiring start. Far from resenting the imposition, most choirs and choir directors would be thrilled to find that their work is actually valuable and important to the liturgy, that they can actually make a real contribution to the real action of the liturgy. Rather than merely performing some groovy song, they would actually be singing the liturgy again. That would inspire their work and drive them to improve.

What this analysis implies of course is that the core problem we are dealing with today only appears to be about the music. Actually, the core problem is a problem with the words of the Mass itself. The choir must defer to them. It must sing the entrance with the proper text and psalms. It must sing the offertory using the proper text and its Psalms. It must sing the communion with its proper text and Psalms. There is no indult not to. There is no “option four” as it appears in the General Instruction.

To accomplish this task, the commission doesn’t need to consult any musicians or liturgists or anyone else. It should simply close a loophole that should never have been opened in the first place. In this case, the commission could dispense with the long treatise, the lectures, the long sermons. If people want to read them, great, and the commission can provide a long bibliography. We all have google. The commission only needs one paragraph that states that it is no longer permissible to replace the Mass propers with “others songs.” The end.

Only then will we begin to see universal change.

Some Saw and Warned

After a great calamity such as the loss of the sacred music tradition — ironically, this followed a Church Council that made bond statements in support of this tradition — it is sometimes supposed that no one could have anticipated what happened. This is far from true. The musicians at the time knew what could happen and, in fact, what was happening. The liturgy of the Roman Rite was on the verge of being reformed without due regard to the implications of the musical component.

If you know something of the way the organizational structures interact with musicians, you can intuit what went on here. Liturgists and theologians, untrained in the musical tradition, supposed that music was a specialization of a few, a kind of special interest, and those who care intensely about the issue form a kind of pressure group not unlike many others. This group might have some valid points but they certainly shouldn’t be permitted to carry the day. Whatever the results of the liturgical reform, it was widely supposed, the musicians will adapt somehow. These were changing times and musicians have to get with it like everyone else.

But what if there is no way to conceptually separate the liturgy from its musical component? What if they are so bound up with each other — in history, in text, in liturgical theology — that disturbing the structure and text without due regard for music would threaten to blow up and destroy the artistic work of more than a thousand years? What if unleashing one generation of enthusiastic and agenda-driven liturgists on the Mass structure and language might be a bit like sending a child with matches to repair a gas leak in a home?

The longer the time that passes since the 1960s, the clearer the picture becomes. The intentions were noble in their broad outlines. But on the details, there was confusing and mixed agendas. Many were working at cross purposes. The wholesale unleashing of the vernacular without proper preparation led to crazy confusions and a loss of direction and identity. This loss mixed together with a cultural upheaval in the world and led to forty years of wandering around in the aesthetic desert. We are still working to find our way back.

This document from 1963, one of the last official statements of the Society of St. Cecilia before it merged with the St. Gregory Society to formed the Church Music Association of America, illustrates that some people knew the dangers and warned about them:

The American Society of St. Caecilia respectfully submits to the consideration of their Eminences and their Excellencies, the Most Reverend Fathers of the Second Vatican Council, the following petitions.

1. Regarding the place of music in the liturgy:

In view of the fact that the church has always regarded the function of the cantor and the trained choir, as well as that of the singing congregation, as an integral and necessary element of public worship, this Society is sincerely hopeful that the Fathers of the Council, before making any changes which might affect the structure of the services, will give earnest consideration to the importance of these traditional elements. While this tradition is not founded upon recent documents, we should desire the retention of the principles so clearly outlined in Pope St. Pius X’s Motu Proprio and in the Musicae Sacrae Disciplina of Pope Pius XII.

2. Regarding the Propers of the Sung Mass:

If any changes are to be made in the structure of the Proper of the Mass, this Society respectfully urges that the Fathers of the Council give careful thought to the fundamental structure of the service, and therefore to the meaning and value of each part, clearly preserving the roles of the cantor and trained choir. This Society also begs that art and beauty, which are inherent and not foreign to the casting of the Proper parts, not be sacrificed to the single issue of simplicity and brevity.

3. Regarding the Ordinary of the Sung Mass:

Since the necessity of a clearer insight into what worship really is presses for a greater sharing by the people in the song of the Church, this Society earnestly recommends that the congregation be encouraged to share in the singing at Mass, not necessarily according to the medieval and mistaken norm of the Ordinary as a unit, but with due regard for the place the various chants have in the fundamental structure of the service. It therefore also pleads that the great treasures of medieval chant and classical polyphony, as well as the riches of modern and contemporary music, not be discarded on the untraditional plea that there is no place for participation by listening.

4. Regarding the music at Low Mass:

This Society respectfully urges that consideration be given to maintaining the sung mass as the norm for congregational service, and where necessity demands, that provision be made for a simplified form of sung Mass that requires only the service of a trained cantor to supplement the singing of the congregation. The singing of hymns at low Mass, a solution suggested by the 1958 decree, is not completely satisfactory, because it remains extraneous to the action at the
altar.

5. Regarding the use of the vernacular in the sung liturgy:

The Society of St. Caecilia recognizes that the vernacular problem is a pastoral problem, but even more basically a problem involving the proper attitude toward worship. Because music is an integral part of worship, the problem is necessarily also a musical one. This Society therefore urges care and caution, since the musical problems involved are certainly very great, whether in creating a new music for a vernacular text or in adapting a vernacular text to the rich store of chant and polyphony and other music from the past. The Society especially suggests vernacular adaptations to the offices of the church which have fallen into disuse, notably parish Vespers.

6. Regarding the practical realization of a sung liturgy:

The Society of St. Caecilia urges the Fathers of the Council to implement the repeated wishes of the Holy. See by encouraging the musical training of both clergy and laity, and especially of choirmasters and organists, according to the norms laid down in the decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites of September 3, 1958, so that the ideals of a reverential and artistic musical worship may be realized.

The above articles have been approved by the Most Reverend Gerald T. Bergan, Archbishop of Omaha, the. Liturgy and Music Commissions of the Archdiocese of Omaha, and by the Boys Town Liturgical Music Institute’s eleventh national session.

For the Society of St. Caecilia:
September 12, 1963
Msgr. Francis P. Schmitt, President
Rev. Francis A. Brunner, C.Ss.R., Secretary
James P. Keenan, Treasurer

Share the Love of Chant this Lent

The lovers of chant have to be creative these days. This much we’ve discovered. The challenge is to find ways to share the love even in an environment where there are so many obstacles, so much misunderstanding of liturgy, an usual degree of musical illiteracy, and an entrenched musical culture in parishes that embed a strong bias toward the status quo of pop hymns instead of true liturgical art.

In every parish situation I know of, the moment of change comes when the chant advocates stop thinking of themselves as demanding something and starting thinking of themselves as servants of the others in the parish community and the faith generally. That’s when the ice begins to melt, the hearts open, people start listening, and progress begins to happen.

Service is the watchword here. It assures the pastoral staff and other parishioners of good faith. Having that frame of mind is good for the singer too. It has something to do with the willingness to make a sacrifice in order to achieve the goal. We need first to bury our own egos in order to see the the triumph of a music that is the ultimate non-egoistic art, the art that is not only directed outside ourselves but even outside the passage of time on this earth.

Lent is upon us — rather suddenly it seems — and I’ve been trying to think of ways to integrate Lent and interest in chant. In my household, we’ve usually sung night prayer with a great consistency than throughout the rest of the year. This practice has been made possible because of a wonderful book simply called Compline, as put together by Fr. Samuel Weber. It has the office of compline for the full liturgical year with English and Latin on facing pages.

I highly recommend this practice as a lovely Lenten discipline. It will help you discover the Psalms as never before. Somehow chanting them in this way opens up the treasures to our hearts and minds – and more poignantly than merely listening on Sunday. The antiphons become part of your life in a beautiful way. It only takes 10 or 15 minutes but it offers great benefits.

I’ve been thinking of ways to expand on this model. The answer finally occurred to me this week. I was in a discussion with a mother of three very young children, one of which truly loves music. She would like to see a way to foster this interest. But like many people today, she doesn’t think she is a musician at all. She doesn’t think she can sing and it would never occur to her that she could lead any kind of sung prayer in her house.

I was listening to this scenario when it suddenly struck me. This is something that I can actually help with. This is something I can do. It wouldn’t take much time at all. I could swing by quickly on my way home from work or in the early evening, pass out the books, and just sing Compline with the family. They wouldn’t have to go anywhere. They could build it into the course of their evening routines. I would arrive and be gone again in a short 20 minutes, and repeat this as often as possible throughout the season.

At first the chants would be completely out of reach for them. They would be lost in the book. They would find the notation odd. They wouldn’t know how to repeat on their own anything that happened. That situation would be true for the first fire times, even the first week or longer. But after two weeks? Three weeks? The method would start to stick. The repeated parts would start to become familiar and memorized.

Think of it. By they end of Lent, what will the family take away from this experience? They will have forever in their hearts the sound of the Church at prayer. It will affect parents and children. It will give them a strong taste for the beauty of prayer. This will create in all present a special place in their hearts for this ancient tradition. They will have new ways to pray wherever they are. The Psalms will be implanted in their minds. For the children, they will carry this throughout their lives.

And all of this happens by giving up 20 minutes a day. That’s remarkable if you think of it. It really is like the loaves and fishes in the story. The singer is the apostle who has the food. The blessing is multiplied by Jesus himself and miraculously shared with others even as it does nothing to diminish the original contents of the basket.

I’m sharing this idea because I’m wondering if other musicians might consider doing the same thing as a Lenten discipline. If we all did this, many lives would be changed. If a choir dispatched singers throughout the parish into homes, many more people in the parish could come to love the chant and be supportive of it in the Mass on Sunday.

So I’m imagining a dream scenario here. Imagine that the pastor of the parish decides to make this a parish program. He first goes to the choir and asks everyone in the choir to learn to sing Compline in its most simple form. Then he asks each member of the choir to help this Lent by volunteering to go into homes of parishioners.

Once he has them committed to this idea, he announces to the whole parish that there is a sing up sheet in the back of the parish for any parishioner who would welcome a choir member to come to sing Compline in their home during the season. I suspect that there would be many people thrilled to sign up for such a service brought right into their homes.

Think of people at home with all sorts of issues and difficulties for whom a nightly sung prayer would be such a blessing. Maybe there is a problem with the kids. Maybe someone at home is caring for an aging parent. Maybe there are family issues that are putting strains on everyone. For everyone to come together for just a few minutes a day to sing the Psalms might bring a kind of heavenly peace to a household.

But most people believe that they cannot do this on their own. They need help. Members of the choir can help perform this service. It is also a way to give choir members practice in leading others in chant prayer. That can only improve their singing talent on Sunday.

This might seem like a small thing but it can have huge effects. If a dozen or so families in the parish accept this offer, they will enter the Easter season with a new talent and a new love for the beautiful art of sung prayer.

What’s more, this is a gift that musicians can give to their parish. Yes, it takes time. Yes, there are other things that one could be doing during cocktail hour. But the last years have taught chanting musicians something extremely important. The most important step toward achieving progress toward the goal of beautiful liturgical music is to show to others and yourself that the driving motivation is the same one that led tot he composition and perpetuation of chant: humility in the service of God.

The Three Worlds of Catholic Liturgy

Twenty years ago, there were three main worlds of Catholic liturgy.

First, there was the mainstream that had virtually no interest in tradition, solemnity, rubrics, or any rooted ideas concerning the historic integrity of the Roman Rite. The only concern of these people was in the unending process of reforming the ritual away from its tradition toward something that made people feel good about themselves and their faith communities.

Second, there was the group was made up of traditionalists who rejected the everything postconciliar and saw no liturgical salvation outside a purely restorative agenda of bringing back the preconciliar rite. It was a very small movement with no official voice. They were largely outsiders who were made to feel that way by anyone with the power to do so.

Third, there was the “reform the reform” camp — sometimes just called conservatives as distinct from traditionalists. They also had low influence and no seeming hope for shaping the future. This was certainly my judgement. I doubted that this group could ever really decide a way forward. Their position seemed fuzzy and lukewarm, wedded to the postconciliar framework but having no viable plan to see it realized in any solemn way.

This is the way things stood for a very long time. Summorum Pontificum of 2007 changed that. It liberalized the liturgical environment by permitting the celebration of the old form of the Roman Rite. Many brilliant thinkers, musicians, and clerics who regarded themselves as traditionalists suddenly found that they were safe in admitting their aspirations.

As part of that, the reform of the reform camp began to work with the traditionalists, and a mutual understanding began to grow. The fights between the camps began to go away. New parishes offering both forms opened up. More young priests learned the old form and this informed their reform agenda for the new form of the rite. Gradually over the last five years, we seen an emerging consensus among both camps. They more and more celebrate successes in both the forms.

Let me mention what I find to be an extremely telling example: English chant. I know I’ve written about this for years but it signifies something extremely important. There is no question in my mind that many of the best minds at Vatican II imagined that there was a future for the chant vernacular liturgy. The first efforts at composition after the close of the Council introduced some elements of this.

But of course it never happen. Or didn’t happen for forty years. There were some editions floating around here and there but they were not published and not circulated. There was no support for the idea from either the “progressive” camp or the traditionalists. What might have seemed to be a normal, natural, inevitable answer to the great problem of postconciliar music was left on the shelf.

Now, consider the following astonishing fact. The monastery of Solesmes in France, which has been the great guardian of the Church’s chant tradition for 150 years, and which has published all the postconciliar Latin chant books, has a new book out. It is called Singing the Mass. Here is the compiler’s website. It has four-line staffs as you would expect in any chant book. But there is a different this time. The entire book is Latin on the left and English on the right. The English is not just text. It is music. It is English chant, as published by the official chant guardian of the faith.

This is the first time in its entire history that Solesmes has published a book of chant in any language besides Latin. This book came out and began to be distributed and, so far as I know, this article is the first one to appear that draws attention to the remarkable fact that vernacular chant has been given an official role in Church music from the universal publisher of the Catholic Church. This is huge, even if hardly noticed

To be sure, I would be perfectly content for the rest of my days to sing and listen to Latin chant. I wish that we lived in a world where Latin was the normative and practical language of Catholic music. I have no desire to tear down this tradition and replace it with something else. That, however, is not our world. The Latin chant has been replaced. In its place came a Catholic hit parade of songs with a beat and with words that have essentially nothing to do with the liturgy. That description pretty much sums up the Catholic experience of music since about 1968.

Going from that straight back to the Latin has clearly and indisputably proven to be too large a leap from any but the most rarified and determined parish environment. So long as there have been no English-language bridges to a solemn and dignified future, this situation would persist. To put the matter as plainly as possible, there have been only two choices: the Liber Usualis or one or another version of non-liturgical song singing.

Only in this last year has this changed in a way that affected Catholics in the pews. English chant went online. Then it went to print. Then recordings came out. More and more books came out. And now we suddenly find Solesmes actually publishing English chant. This is all within 12 months. Out of nowhere, seemingly, the reform the reform agenda of Catholic liturgical music when from a distant dream to a sudden and universal reality.

Hardly anyone would have believed it. I didn’t believe it could happened. There was a time when I sniffed dismissively of these efforts. I was wrong. Most everyone was wrong. Change took a direction that hardly anyone expected and it happened with astonishing speed and conviction. And this shift was due to the prayers of millions and the courage of a great Pope.

If you ever despair about the situation in your local parish, please consider this as a case in point. The reform is closer than you think. It can happen tomorrow or next week or next month. In fact, at this point, we can say for sure that change is coming. It is not a matter of if but when.

But what of the first camp, those self-described progressives who want no part of traditionalism or any reform efforts at all? They make for an interesting study in isolation and denial. I read their blogs and their newspapers and they strike me as hopelessly wedded to an old paradigm that is not long for this world. How blessed it is to live in an age where the improvement is all around us and those who would hold it back are losing heart and numbers.

Is the job market improving for serious Catholic musicians?

There’s a book on Catholic music published in 1977 by Msgr. Francis P. Schmitt, former director of the Boys Town Choir, one-time editor of Sacred Music, major mover and shaker in Church music circles before and during the Second Vatican Council. You can get it from online sellers for $1.

His book is called Church Music Transgressed. It is short. It achieved very little circulation in those days, and is mostly not talked about today. It is very depressing. In fact, it is almost unbearable to read because the story he tells is so shocking, so alarming, so mind blowing. His famed wit from the old days is barely noticeable through the fire and heat of his nearly despairing prose.

It’s the story of a revolution that began after the Council who words elevated Gregorian chant and sacred music to musical primacy in the Mass. The reality is the story that Msgr. Schmitt tells. Music directors were fired. He was let go of his job. Cathedral musicians with positions lasting back decades were sent packing. Choirs were disbanded. Children’s music programs were defunded. University posts were shut down. Old organizations went bankrupt. Music books were trashed. Whole libraries were hurled into the dumpster. This happened all over the U.S., Canada, England, and even the North American College in Rome.

New publishers, organizations, singing stars, and events emerged to take their place. The ethos was entirely different. Instead of professionalism, amateurism was strangely exalted. Everything old was regarded as outmoded and ridiculous, stuffy, pompous, unsuited to the new age. All that was new, even if it had nothing to do with the Mass, liturgy, or even religion, was given a pass. Choirs in general were put down as elitist and contrary to full participation. Organs were locked and gathered dust.

What caused all this? It was the perfect storm of culture changes, confusions, mania, demographic shifts, rebellion, and a crisis of confidence on the part of bishops and priests. It was a time of intense fear from all those who knew what was right but felt powerless to do anything about it. Those who stuck their neck out to defend tradition were taught a lesson for others to see. They lost every struggle. There were survivors, but they lived lives of isolation and deprivation. They suffered as hardly anyone suffers today.

This is the story that the author tells in great detail. Do you see what I mean that you probably don’t want to read this book? It’s very hard to take. Remember too that no one under the age of 60 even remembers much about these days. Young musicians today know nothing about this period. Probably they don’t care to. I can see why. It’s good to think about the future and not dwell in this past.

However, I don’t want to give the wrong impression about Msgr. Schmitt’s book. He is not entirely one-sided in placing the blame on the goofballs of the progressive camp. He has plenty to say about the sacred music camp too. He blasts their elitism and inflexibility in dealing with the new liturgy, the new language demands, the insistence on the part of the council that the music of the Mass not remain the exclusive work of the choir and organist. In his view, the sacred music camp of this period saw their whole agenda as attempting to prolong the exact model of the before the Council with very little if any thought put to even the smallest adaptions in light of the times. Their bet everything they had on turning back the clock and, in the end, lost everything. (If that description offends you, don’t blame me: I’m just reporting what the author writes.)

But consider that all of this was long ago. Surely we’ve turned the corner. Surely we have. In the last weeks, I’ve been taken aback by all the parishes seeking serious musicians to lead a real reform of the music programs in their parishes. I’ve been contacted by many pastors seeking advice, benefactors looking to help, musicians who report the types of things you want to hear. CMAA programs are filling up early. Scholas continue to spread. January jobs postings are up significantly.

I’ve worried for some years that the successes of the CMAA’s efforts might be leading to an emerging gap in the supply and demand for full-time Church musicians. So many young people feel the call and are making career plans. How tragic for them to spend years in training only to find a barren land when it comes time to turn their vocation into a career! These markets can never be perfectly adjusted, but I’m starting to feel confident for the first time that making this career choice is not a mistake. The jobs are appearing.

To be sure, there are plenty of problems remaining. Salaries are too low. There are few serious singers left in any parish. The musical capital is so low that the director of music spends a vast amount of time doing remedial eduction. Sometimes these musicians show up in parish situations with the support of the pastors, but small pockets of parish resistance then shake the pastor’s confidence. An agenda can fall apart quickly under these conditions. Then there is the problem that pastors can get transferred with little notice, replace by someone new who does not share the reformist point of view.

So the whole field is strewn with landmines. These are problems of the transition. It cannot happen all at once. What matters most here are the trendlines. The good news is that times have really changed. The momentum is in the right direction. How long will be rebuilding take? The rest of our lifetimes.

The driving force here are the young pastors. I’ve never met a newly ordained priest who is not very interested in chant and sacred music. My rough-and-ready model for understanding this runs as follows. In the 1980s, the new priests were focused on theology. In the 1990s and 2000s, they started getting interested in liturgy. In our times, the focus is music. This is the way the rebuilding is taking place.

Another important change: that inflexibility of the old guard in the 1960s is changed to a new spirit of liberality. For the first time, we are seeing major efforts toward providing music for English propers and ordinary parts of the Mass. Msgr. Schuler once described the vernacular as a “gift” of the Church to the world. His view on this matter is now being taken seriously. This does not mean that Latin is being forgotten; on the contrary, it is being upheld as a goal and ideal to which we need to transition. But the means of that transition are just as important as the goal.

Truly, it is a different world today for Church musicians from ten years ago. We have tens of thousands of free scores available, dozens of new websites and resources, chant camps occurring nearly fortnightly in places around the country. The enthusiasm and excitement seems to build by the day. Sometimes it looks to me almost like the opposite process that Msgr. Schmitt describes in his harrowing book but it is all happening in a more humane way. This is not a “counterrevolution” but rather a serious, sincere, and loving effort to improve and progress with openness and sensitivity. And it is working toward the benefit of everyone.

The Treatise We’ve Needed

The phone rang last week, and it was a man upset about the music in his parish. I listened patiently but I already knew what he was going to say. I’ve heard it all a thousand times before. The music seems unCatholic. It has nothing to do with the season or the day. The performers are self indulgent. It’s too loud and pop sounding. And is the hymn (fill in the blank) really permitted?

Then the question came that I’ve learned to dread: what book can I give to the pastor and the musician to help them better discern what is appropriate for the Mass?

Silence.

I know it sounds crazy but there has not been a single work that really mapped out — historically, theologically, musically, and practically — the musical framework of the Roman Rite. There are great books on theology and history. There are several books of journalism and witty commentary on the state of Catholic music. There are much older books explaining rubrics.

But, if you think about it, there is no a single book that integrates it all, rises above it all to provide new insight, and gives a viable plan going forward that is rooted in the ritual structure, the traditions, and the legislation of the Catholic faith.

Now, at last, I can say that such a book exists. It is called The Musical Shape of the Liturgy. It is published by the Church Music Association of America. It will appear in print next month. Right now you can buy it on Kindle.

The author is William Mahrt, and, I can tell you, that he is the only person in the world who could have written a book like this. In addition to being the president of the Church Music Association of America, he is a professor of music at Stanford University. He is old enough to remember the change in the Mass from old to new. He was directing a parish choir the entire time, and this was in addition to his academic duties. He was researching old manuscripts and writing scholarly papers presented at academic forums.

This combination of duties led him to develop something unique: a mind that lives and thinks in the two and usually separate worlds of academia and parish life. His research is heavily informed by practical concerns. And his practical concerns are heavily informed by his historical, theological, and musical interests. It all flows together in this mind that has the patience to do over a lifetime what no one else has done.

The Musical Shape of the Liturgy is the first general treatise on music in the Roman Rite, one that can inform audiences of all types, whether parish musicians, academics, or Church officials. In some ways, this book is the culmination of a lifetime of experience. No, it wasn’t written all at once. Many chapters have appeared in other places. But when you look at the sequence of chapters, one is amazed at how they form a beautiful whole.

How can I summarize the thesis? Mahrt’s book demonstrates that the Roman Rite is not only a ritual text of words. It is a complete liturgical experience that embeds within it a precise body of music that is absolutely integral to the rite itself. This integration is not only stylistic (though style does matter). The music is structured to provide a higher-level elucidation of the themes of the Mass ritual itself. In other words, the music at Mass is not arbitrary. It is wedded to the rite as completely as the prayers, rubrics, and the liturgical calendar itself. Everything in the traditional music books has a liturgical purpose. When they are neglected or ignored, the rite is truncated and the experience reduced in potential to reveal and inspire.

These claims will amount to a total revelation to most all Catholic musicians working today, most of whom are under the impression that it is merely a matter of personal judgement whether this or that is played or sung. As Mahrt points out again and again, genuine Catholic music for Mass is bound by an ideal embodied in the chant tradition. This tradition is far more rich, varied, and artistically sophisticated that is normally supposed. More importantly, it is the music that is proper to the Roman Rite.

The opening section of the book, then, provides a four-part course in the musical structure of the liturgy. Here we discover the origin, history, and liturgical purpose of the ordinary chants. We discover the propers of the Mass and their meaning, and why they cannot be replaced by something with a completely different text and music without impoverishing the liturgy. We find out that the Roman Rite is really a sung ritual with parts for the celebrant, the schola, and the people. Everything has a place, purpose, rationale. It’s all part of a prayer. Even the tones for the readings are structured to signal themes and fit into an overall aesthetic and spiritual tableau.

The second section explores the particulars with detailed commentary on chants and their meaning. He covers entrance chants, offertory, communions, Psalms, alleluias, and sequences. Mahrt helps the reader understand their intricate structure and theological meanings, and provides a commentary that only a musicologist on his level can provide. The reader begins to appreciate the extent to which chant is far more profound than is usually supposed.

Further commentaries reflect on the polyphonic tradition that became part of the ritual experience of Mass in the middle ages. He explains how this music is an elaboration on the chant tradition and why it is included by the Church as part of the treasury. He writes on all the great composers of this period from Josquin to William Byrd. He moves on to cover the issue and question of the Viennese classical Masses, explaining why they continue to be appropriate for liturgy despite their apparent stylistic departure from the pure chant tradition. He covers the use of organ in Mass as well.

The third section turns to the specifics of putting all of this into practice in the contemporary world. He deals with English chant, offers specific commentaries on the case for “praise music,” investigates the meaning of inculturation and musical taste, and tackles pressing problems such as what to do when a parish has no budget and no singers. This section is the one that is of the highest practical value for pastors and musicians today, so much so that it would be tempting to read it apart from the rest. I think this would be a mistake. What is missing most from today’s Catholic world is the awareness of the the musical shape of the liturgy – that essential structure of what is supposed to take place in the Roman ritual itself.

When this manuscript was sent around prior to publication, there were widespread sighs of relief from everyone from parish musicians to Church officials. Finally. Finally! Finally we have the book that has been missing in all the literature on the liturgy. This is the book that fills that gigantic hole, the one that provides that insight into the liturgy that only a musician can provide and also elucidates the purpose and structure of the music itself. In addition, it provides a path forward.

This is the book that millions wish they could have read and thousands wish they could have written. It is finally here. I can see that this book will become a classic and will continue to be so long after this generation leaves this earth. It will resonate for decades and even centuries into the future.

Congratuations to William Mahrt. Thank you for this gift to the Church. These words will be repeated by many people long into the future.