Who you callin’ “Bi-polar?”

A few folks here and at the blogsite 1Peter5 might have noticed a couple of articles focusing upon the homiletic style of a particular celebrant at a particular parish in a particular diocese as captured on personal video and posted to YouTube. The article I wrote I chose to delete as the YT poster/owner removed said video from YT, which of course is their prerogative. I have no clue, guess, or intuition as to why the video was washed from this site and 1P5, and I’m not going to riff at all on its removal. I “feel” sorry for using the video as an exemplar of “Liturgy Gone Wild,” as I did not intend to condemn or bury the pastor and parish in toto based upon three minutes of an unusual homily.

As of June 4th, it seems that the video was recovered by the Blog 1Peter5. Here is the URL link-

http://www.onepeterfive.com/fr-chucks-guitar-homily/

That said, I did choose to do a minimal amount of research about the parish, diocese and priest. Imagine my surprise when opening the “Liturgy” window of the diocese that virtually everything there was pro forma GIRM/CMAA/MS/CSL, even down to extolling polyphony, an official ministerial role reserved to choirs and scholas, throughout various other category buttons/windows. The button indicating the definition of “Sacred Music” was linked to Corpus Christi Watershed’s famed video featuring JMO’s wife (and sister in law?) narrating the orthodoxy of the discipline.

What’s wrong with this picture?

I tend to wonder how much lip service is paid to the informed lobby of CMAA and those who subscribe to the “Reform of the Reform” referendum bubbling up all over global Catholicism, versus the anecdotal evidence that is strikingly contrary and seemingly, purposefully subverted at the parish level? The diocesan website actually represented an ethos that is somewhat to the right of the USCCB letter, “Sing to the Lord.” So, despite the lack of perspective that a three minute video excerpt prohibits, it’s clear that there’s some sort of benign neglect in this diocese as to what constitutes pastoral leadership and surety. That’s not news to me. I’ve lived with this duplicity for decades.

I, as I indicated in my removed article, am no where’s a liturgical purist or Puritan. But, again, for the sake of future generations of baptized Roman Catholic children, we’d better get our story straight or this schizophrenic duplicity will truly bring on the “Remnant Church.” And at this moment, I am not going to be silent about propriety in a political manner of what constitutes “source and summit” of my soul’s existence. I’m not ready for the Benedict Option (google it) to further erode our Faithful’s comprehension and desire for the Divine Liturgy.

I’m done now.

“A Revival of New Catholic Initiatives”

I attended a fascinating lecture the other day about a junior naval officer, later an admiral, who really knew how to make waves. (¡Hagan lio!) The solution was simple and obviously important, a technological and tactical improvement that would revolutionize the accuracy of naval gunnery. The trouble was, how to make a change in a bureaucracy?

It’s always the same in war, isn’t it? Generals fight today’s battles with tomorrow’s technology–and yesterday’s tactics. Ranking officers would prefer not to hear suggestions. Junior officers are afraid to speak. Losses due to a simple lack of candor can be astonishing.

In the Church, since apostolic times, there has been a tension–often ultimately fruitful–between structure and charism. Both structure and charism are God’s will for the Church and the work of the Holy Spirit. In fact, administration is itself a charism. And Jesus Christ personally instituted the hierarchy.

In light of these structural realities, it is often necessary to take deliberate steps to open up listening processes. New initiatives will at first seem impractical or even impossible, and due to the inertia inherent in institutions, quite likely undesirable.

In his interview book Light of the World with Peter Seewald, Pope Benedict spoke in a way that might at first glance seem more, shall we say, Franciscan:

“Less clearly but nevertheless unmistakably, we find here in the West, too, a revival of new Catholic initiatives that are not ordered by a structure or a bureaucracy. The bureaucracy is spent and tired. These initiatives come from within, from the joy of young people.”

Ironically enough, one of the first things that can happen with a fresh initiative is that it can become a new rule, a new codified structure. This is what has happened with ecclesial music, for example. Once the first fellow got out on stage with his guitar, it was basically all over for chant.


And thus today’s fresh new initiatives are often recovery efforts, finding the best kinds of service and evangelization, the best sources and methods of Catholic teaching, the best kinds of art, architecture, and music, and bringing them to new life. Often this happens with a certain struggle. A parish or diocesan initiative having to do with chant will have an infinitely more difficult time getting started than one involving a guitar and piano combo, despite the obvious failure of Elvis-era outreach, and despite the clear teaching of the Second Vatican Council on chant’s primacy in our Liturgy.

So the way forward, it seems to me, has a lot to do with thinking. We want to do what is best and most appropriate for both “vertical” and “horizontal” reasons, without a lot of inertia.

What are the next steps?

Meeting people where they are; leading people to where they are not yet

It’s ordination season, a time of great joy in the Church as dedicated young men are called forward and consecrated for conformity with Christ and priestly service to all of us.

As is usual on intergenerational ecclesial occasions, something of a generation gap is in evidence.

  • Current and recent ordinandi are likely to process in a reverent and calm way, looking straight ahead, perhaps with a slight smile but with a certain recollection.
  • Older priests are likely to wear large smiles in the entrance procession, looking for friends in the crowds and waving.

Standing outside this phenomenon and only being able to guess at the reason for the difference, I believe that there must have been a time when a particularly extroverted interpretation was given to the Pauline ideal of being “all things to all men.”

According to the General Instruction on the Roman Missal, the goal of the Entrance Antiphon has four specific aspects.

47. When the people are gathered, and as the Priest enters with the Deacon and ministers, the Entrance Chant begins. Its purpose is to open the celebration, foster the unity of those who have been gathered, introduce their thoughts to the mystery of the liturgical time or festivity, and accompany the procession of the Priest and ministers.

This fourfold goal would not be met in any way by individual greetings or casualness. It is well addressed, however, by an attitude of recollection and prayerfulness on the part of all, ministers and people.

As we have often noted here before, we’re still in the middle of an awkward, upside-down time in the Church, when the young are more formal than their elders. As we continue to think through these matters together, it helps to keep an open mind.

It could well be that received wisdom has sometimes overemphasized one aspect of pastoral concern at the expense of others.

Save Me From Myself, or “Why He Left the Catholic Church”

Upon reading this essay my first impulse was to blog about what an idiot how wrong in his thinking the author was.
Oh, my sweet aspergillum, are you being funny? ironic?

Why I Left the Catholic Church

In the end it was art that did it — or rather, the lack of art.
I’m not angry, like so many other ex-Catholics. I don’t have a problem with the Catholic Church’s position on sexual morality. I didn’t have a bad experience with a priest, or resent any nuns that taught me.
In the end, I left the Catholic Church because as an artist I could no longer hold out hope that there would be a place for me in the church.

Yeah, and a rational man stops believing in the Periodic Table because he doesn’t like the approach the chemists he knows take to their work.
My thoughts are so uncharitable I must not even type them.

But beyond what I would think is the sheer impossibility of abandoning the grace of the sacraments, and the unsurpassable gift of the Body and Blood of Jesus –the tunnel-visioned inaccuracy of the charge is staggering.
Have you heard Arvo Pärt?
Have you seen Thérèse? (the French film.)
Do you know of Sagrada Familia? 
(Okay, Gaudi’s been dead a while…)
MacMillan, Mitsui, Allen, Jenkins…
Lack of art? Really?

So I thought since so many of you have essentially dedicated your lives to the creation and recreation of beauty in the service of  the Catholic Church, you might have thoughts on this, (as well as the ability to express them more gracefully and graciously than I would do even had I the ability.)

Adventures In Progressive Solemnity

I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to attend a Mass in the Extraordinary Form recently.

Generally, although one is offered in my diocese every weekend, the distance and timing, and my own Sunday obligations are such that I instead seek a musicless Mass.

If you care how a lover of music and music-making came to such a sorry pass, you can read  here.
 

When I’ve worked in a parish setting, TPTB were always slightly Latin-phobic, so obviously only Ordinary Form for Mass or LotH. Convincing them that what they wanted to sing, or were accustomed to sing weren’t necessarily the most important things to sing, and that the Church actually gave us guidance on this, (apart from what our diocesan OoW put out,) was like pulling teeth.

Instead of Progressive Solemnity, we were fortunate to even be able to achieve a sort of Regressive Triviality.

I have taken part in Extraordinary Form Masses with great joy, at Colloquia and when I have found myself in the environs of St John Cantius, or had the opportunity to attend one for which Jenny Donelson’s schola sang; and I have even been happy to have the chance to hear the traditional Mass when neither the priest nor the musicians, nor we faithful in the pews seemed very sure of who should do what when.

I even accidentally attended Mass at a schismatic chapel, before I knew there were such people and places, and I give thanks for, and “enjoyed” that.


I have never had any musical responsibilities at these, (other than singing as told at CMAA functions,) so never thought much about what is supposed to be done.

I generally position myself near someone who seem confident of his postures and gestures, whose hand missal looks well-loved, and copy him.

But I have realized that there is very little consistency from place to place.

(The first clue that I had was the PBC notation about “IFthe confiteor is said again, turn to pg 25,” or some such.)

Some places one priest reads the Lesson and Gospel in English while another reads them quietly in Latin, others the vernacular follows the “real” scripture. Some places the PIPs kneel for the entire time except the Gospel and homily. Some everyone recites the Gloria along with the celebrant. One priest stopped in mid-Pater noster to silence the people who were singing along with him, another practically conducted us to sing along.

I was given to understand that this is all because, in the day, there really wereno rubrics for the people.

But the rubrics for the musicians are pretty clear, I had thought, especially the distinctions between solemn, sung and read Mass, a la Musica Sacra.

But even these seem to be a source of confusion.

The organist at one parish told me she and her choir “just do what Father wants,” and there are four different “Fathers” who might show up on a moments notice.


The Mass I attended Sunday was lovely, and profoundly prayerful.

I found myself entering into it such that I was saved from playing Liturgy Scorekeeper, (a more passive role that Liturgy Police,) no ticking off boxes, wondering why so and so did such and such.

It was only after Mass that I thought, hmmm, 2 Latin motets and one English anthem, or that was nice, that little organ filler, sounds like Rossini, and then repeat the anthem, or, gee, only one voice to a part, none of them very strong but sweet polyphony, or wait a minute, they only sang some of the Gregorian Ordinary, and we all spoke the rest together, didn’t we?

It all seemed, it felt appropriate.

Were they, perhaps, applying principles of progressive solemnity from Musicam Sacram to the EF, taken advantage of the provision for varying “degrees” of sung Mass?

And why shouldn’t they?

That might sound flip, or combative, but it’s really not.

IRL I have no access to anyone particularly knowledgeable about this, and I thank God every day for Those InterWebs.

But the internet is full of Facts that Everybody Knows – that aren’t true.

And there often seem to be differences of opinion as to what pronouncements are descriptive and what prescriptive.

I thought I had learned that Musicam Sacram does not apply to the EF, (though of course there are some who try to insist it doesn’t apply to the Novus Ordo… who, pray tell, would they be?)

I was startled to learn, (but I am ignorant – people who keep up on these things also seemed startled to learn,) in the comment box of  this several month old thread at New Liturgical Movement, which addresses these very questions, that  a book of rubrics for the old Mass is available online. The date of publication is 1960, but would it be in effect for the 1962 Missal?

A lot of the conversation there of course is simply opinion – leaned, informed opinion, but not really helpful for those who might be preparing sing half take baby steps in preparing music for liturgy.

It doesn’t matter to me right now so much what the Church should haveasked of us as what She doesask.

I want to know what’s what, and what ought to be, and what ought not — because I have a premonition, or at least a hope, that I might need to know.

What “legitimate diversity” is there in the Extraordinary Form?