Small Church, Singing Church

Last Sunday I was in the mountains of North Carolina, Ashe County to be precise.  The Catholic church in Jefferson was founded in 1963.  When I was in this county as a child, there weren’t any Catholics.  

The population was, to paraphrase John Belushi, Baptist, Baptist, Baptist, Methodist.  Well, times have changed.  There has been an influx of both Anglo and Hispanic Catholics.  And St. Francis of Assisi is the result.

It’s a small church building that runs down a hillside with a fellowship hall, etc.  (My bet is that it was probably Presbyterian before because of the neat little cup holders on the pew backs.)  The choir had three members – 2 male, 1 female.  The organist labored mightily.  The missalette was Celebramos, but the hymns were quite traditional.  The Mass setting was unknown to me, but clearly known to everyone else.  The priest was young and orthodox. And they had a splendid wooden crucifix over the altar.

EVERYONE SANG!  All ages, all sorts and conditions of men (and women, of course) sang the hymns and responses – maybe with more enthusiasm than accuracy, but with great spirit.  The parish is getting ready for an anniversary celebration-potluck.  They had raised the funds for a cochlear implant for a child in the parish.  And they’re fund-raising for stained glass windows. They re-roofed the bell tower and now they’re starting on the main building, which they will do themselves. There was a spirit and warmth in that place.  (And no, you can relax, I won’t start singing “There’s a sweet sweet spirit in this place.”)

My experience as a wandering Catholic with a musical background is that small parishes are best.  Small buildings let each person know that his/her contribution to the worship is important.  Was the liturgy a splendid array of chant and polyphony?  No, but it was splendid in its humility. 

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear, as written by St. Robert Bellarmine

St. Robert Bellarmine’s office hymn Orbis Patrator optime

O best Perfector of all things,
who out of nothing being brings
through your almighty strong right hand;
who rules by provident command,

Come here to sinners, Lord, we pray,
assembled at the dawning day.
As day breaks through the dark of night,
Lord, give our minds a newborn light.

And may the angel guard you give
be with us all the days we live.
May he be ever close to win
protection from the plague of sin.

May he exterminate the claim—
the dragon’s envy and his blame—
and keep our hearts, caught unawares,
from walking into lying snares.

To exile let our foes be sent;
let illness share the banishment.
Let people prosper and increase
in realms of health and lasting peace.

To God the Father glory be,
who cares, by angel ministry,
for all those ransomed by the Son
and whom the Spirit’s unction won.

Sung Liturgy in Ordinary Parish Life

Over the past few years we have witnessed a groundswell in sung liturgy, and in the renewal of sacred music in parish life. This has been taking place in parishes, cathedrals, seminaries, universities and institutes, religious houses, and elsewhere, both here in the U.S. and abroad. This movement has not been reserved to specialists, but has become a popular one. With the implementation of the new translation of the Roman Missal in 2011, the foundational song for the liturgy in chanted form found a home on every altar and in every sacristy throughout the English-speaking world.

Those who have followed Chant Cafe over the past few years have witnessed the development of enterprising resources such as Simple English Propers, among many others. These projects which have come from such humble beginnings have not just been niche or esoteric in their scope, but have begun to find a home in many places in the ordinary, day-to-day events of Catholic life. We continue to receive reports from parishes and cathedrals around the country, notes from Europe, and even words of thanks from Rome. It’s all very hard to believe, and it is certainly not something we ever would have imagined.
Still, even after all of the progress that has been made, when we step back and take an inventory of our current situation we begin to realize how much more work still needs to be done in order to make sung liturgy a regular part of ordinary parish life.
In the parishes that have achieved and maintained any regular practice of sung liturgy so far, there is typically an extremely dedicated, faith-filled, and talented leader at the center of it. This may be a full-time music director, a part-time coordinator, or even a committed volunteer. This individual has to work extraordinarily hard not only to teach, catechize and train cantors, choirs, organists, members of the faithful, even parish staff and clergy, but also to pull together and execute sung liturgies week after week. It is true that this task is easier than it was five years ago, but still, it is a monumental task.

Just last week I read a note from a colleague in my diocese who went on vacation and planned to fly back home on Saturday night in order to direct his music program on Sunday morning. Well, his flight was delayed twice and finally cancelled, which would have been cause for a typical music director to begin scrambling for a sub. But his situation is different. He wrote:

In order to sub for me you have to read neumes, be able to sing in Latin, come up with accompaniments to chants and hymns on the fly, dabble your way through 3 books and a binder and keep the nice choir ladies on key…. so I couldn’t just call in some AGO-sub-lister. So what does an organist do? He flies into Los Angeles at midnight, rents a car, then drives through the night and makes it home just in time for his 7am Mass with no sleep.

This, my friends, is dedication. And — somewhat unfortunately — it is the kind of dedication that is currently needed to successfully sustain a program of sacred music in a parish today.

And this brings me to my next observation.

When we assess the musical programs in the majority of parishes, we do not find this kind of superhuman music director. In fact, in most parishes we see a mishmash of volunteers, perhaps a few stipended musicians, and maybe a part-time coordinator. Truly, parishes with full-time directors of music are the exception, not the norm.

Most of these parishes rely upon pre-packaged programs of liturgical music from the major commercial publishers that give them everything that is needed to get through weekend liturgies. These resources are utterly relied upon from week to week. There is the hymnal/missal for the pew, accompaniment books for the accompanist, and the cantor and choir editions for the singers that correspond to the books in the pews, et cetera. Everything is in place. All that is needed is for the musical leader of the Mass to select four songs from the planning guide, pick out a Mass setting, put the numbers on the board, and they’re ready to go.

We all know the drill very well. What makes us uneasy about this is not the drill itself, but it is the music in the popular commercial liturgical products that we know so often lacks dignity, doesn’t set the liturgical text, has strong associations with (often dated) popular music, and is a far cry from what we might describe as sacred music.

So far, we have been very blessed to have begun reaping the fruits of the chant revival, and new publications in recent years have helped make this possible. There are heroic music directors and dedicated volunteers among us who perform miracle after miracle — Sunday after Sunday, in order to help foster a culture of sacred music and sung liturgy in their parishes.

But we also have to realize that in order to make this happen in ordinary parishes we need to have a comprehensive program of sacred music that is packaged like the programs from the big commercial publishers. We need the complete package: Books for the pews, books for the choir and cantor that match, and accompaniment editions for it all.

And most importantly this program of sacred music needs to be born of the mind of the Church, organically developed out of the Church’s timeless tradition, a reflection of the priorities of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, beautiful, sacred, dignified, and able to sung every week by ordinary parishes with limited resources.

I would like to introduce you to a solution to these needs:

Meet the Lumen Christi Series from Illuminare Publications.

The Lumen Christi Missal is already being used in many parishes across the country, and hundreds rely upon the Illuminare Score Library every week for free downloads for the cantor and choir, and for organ accompaniments.

The Lumen Christi Hymnal, Lumen Christi Simple Gradual, and Lumen Christi Gradual are all on their way and will begin shipping in early 2014.

Sung liturgy cannot be reserved to the domain of specialists, or the dedicated few, but must be shared in by all. The Lumen Christi Series is ready to help you make this a reality in your parish.

Click here to learn more. You can follow the Illuminare Publications blog or subscribe to the mailing list for future publication announcements and updates.

This is going to be AMAZING!

I’m sure the other Adam (or am I the “other” one?) will be providing full coverage here soon, since it is his project, and I will do an extensive series of reviews as the material becomes available…but I just can’t contain my excitement.

The Lumen Christi Series is an all-new, complete program of sacred music for Catholic parishes. It contains a series of resources for the congregation, cantor, choir or schola cantorum, and organist, and is aimed at assisting parishes in liturgical renewal that is in accord with the Church’s mind and timeless tradition.

The full series will be available next year. Learn more now!

Woot.

Clever Tumblr Spoof Page

It’s called The Low Churchman’s Guide to the Solemn High Mass: Keeping Loyal Anglicans Safe from Superstition Since 2013. And it is a riot. A sample from the post “Masters of Ceremonies.”

If a loyal churchman were to attend a Solemn High Mass (we are speaking here, of course, in purely hypothetical terms), he would see a throng of strangely-dressed people behaving oddly. By the time the service reaches its full swing, a wide variety of functionaries will be fulfilling various tasks: the organist is playing something, the choristers are screeching, the verger is guarding the chancel entrance, the thurifer is thurifing, and the sacred ministers are shuffling awkwardly in their ill-fitting shoes. Yet a closer look would reveal a person who doesn’t seem to be doing anything; he is wearing a cassock and surplice, and occasionally directs peremptory gestures toward the other people in the chancel. Who is he and what is he doing?

This person is an MC (Master of Ceremonies), and what he is doing is destroying Anglicanism.

On a day when some are recklessly ch-ch-charging the Ordinariates with over-ritualizing, um, rituals, it seems only right to hear from a dissenting voice.