About “The Interview”

There’s an old saying: Once you’re ordained a bishop, you’ll never again hear the truth or eat a bad meal. And Pope Francis is turning this sense of the hierarchy upside down.

Part of being human and social and fallible and sensitive is a strong aversion to taking responsibility for our own inadequacies and mistakes. Things aren’t as they should be, I’m not as I should be. I like to think of myself as part of the solution, but actually I’m part of the problem too. This is hard to admit.

So I don’t. Instead, I point fingers.

The closer someone is to Jesus, the more the Pope takes him/her to task. The farther away, the more he beckons them to be closer. You can argue with this as a strategy, but in any case, it’s the Gospel. Jesus didn’t say, “Get thee behind me, Satan” to Pontius Pilate. He said this to Peter. He welcomed sinners and ate with them, while constantly upbraiding his own. “He scourges every son He receives.” “He prunes the fruitful branches.”

Note that in the interview, some of the Pope’s strongest criticisms are of his own leadership as a Jesuit superior.

For all we might have learned by actual persecutions of the Church, still, flattery is everywhere. I remember noticing this at my first real Church job. People deferred to me, just because of my position. It seemed weird. Still does. When people whom I know well and serve personally say thanks in some way, ok, that makes sense. But when those employed by a parish (or diocese or universal Church) act like a faultless elite, there’s a problem. “You know that among the Gentiles…the great ones make their authority felt. It cannot be like that with you.”

The only intellectually consistent way to get through a day without faulting myself is by faulting others. Things aren’t right, obviously. Someone is wrong. O yes, “them.”

What if, without abandoning our labors for the good, the true, and the beautiful, we all did a better job of the personal examen, which if I understand correctly is the most important of the Jesuit daily spiritual practices, so much so that if because of time pressure no other prayer is possible, the examination of conscience must never be omitted. What if each minister in the Church sat before God every day and said, “Lord, show me my mistakes. My mistakes, and not anothers. Show me how to change my ways for your glory and the good of the people.” Somehow, I think we would all cheer up. We’d start thinking more creatively, considering real solutions and best practices.

I was sitting on the church steps tonight after adoration, keeping an older friend company while her ride was on its way. A man came by, said a very cheery “Good evening,” and went to look at the sign to see when Mass times are on Sunday. No doubt he’d just watched the news. I couldn’t help thinking that he probably thought his mistaken views were now compatible with Catholic doctrine, now that the news said that the Pope said so. That’s a sort of frustrating pastoral thought, and yes, there will probably be a spike this year in the number of doctrinal/ pastoral corrections that will be going in the RCIA.

Take it as a form of flattery. You don’t strongly criticize a kid practicing scales, all thumbs. But a reviewer may take a concert pianist to task. The new Christian, the returning Christian, though often he puts us elder sons to shame from the get-go, will have a time of trial. But first, let him be drawn closer. And let the grownups take one for the team.

Chant Workshop in October: See you in La Crosse!

I hope that you will come and join me for a chant workshop in the Diocese of La Crosse this October 25 and 26th. It will be the first of a series of sacred music events offered in collaboration between the Liturgical Institute and Illuminare Publications which will offer both immediately practical training and resources for use in parish life, and a deep rooting in sound sacramental and liturgical catechesis.

The workshop will feature a new and refreshing approach to chant instruction – one that begins with the important but often overlooked questions: What is the liturgy? How does music serve and form an integral part of the liturgy? How can music express the invisible mysteries contained within the liturgy? How does liturgical prayer affect our lives of faith? 

It will then explore the texts and musical settings that form an actual part of the liturgy itself, and intensive instruction will be offered on singing liturgical chant beautifully, expressively and effectively.

The workshop will cover the core musical settings found in the Roman Missal, will give a particular emphasis to the singing of the proper antiphons of the Mass, and will offer strategies and approaches for an effective and pastoral implementation of sung liturgy in ordinary parish life. It will also demonstrate the singing of psalm verses in 4-part harmony, how to conduct a choir or schola in the singing of chant, and will offer tips for running a successful parish music program. The workshop will conclude with a fully sung Votive Mass of the Blessed Virgin Mary at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

This workshop will be accessible and beneficial to both beginner and seasoned liturgical musicians, as well as to to priests, deacons, cantors, and even to those who have sung chant with some regularity. All are welcome, and everyone will surely discover something new about liturgical music and its effect in our lives of faith.

To register for the event, please email worship@dioceseoflacrosse.com, or call (608) 791-2674.

See the flyer below for more details. I hope to see you there!

If you are interested in bringing a similar workshop to your parish or diocese, please contact: info@illuminarepublications.com

Fight or Flight

When your local parish has problems – I’m thinking about liturgical problems right now, but this is applicable to any serious issues – what do you do? Assuming you aren’t the Music Director or otherwise in a position of “official” or semi-official leadership- what should you do? Try to fix things? Suffer through and “offer it up?” Go find another parish to worship with?

And, let’s be clear: I mean REAL problems. I don’t mean that they do some P&W songs at another scheduled Mass you don’t attend. I don’t mean they sometimes replace one of the Propers with a hymn instead or that the choir isn’t as good as it could be. I mean (liturgically, in this case) that things are so bad that it is truly difficult to attend Mass.

This is a question that comes up for most people at some time. There are no perfect answers. I recently shared my own thoughts about this on the MusicaSacra Forum, and thought I would repost them here.

Some people are called to “stay and work” in parishes, communities, etc where something wrong is going on, where change can be effected.

Some people are called to “leave and pray,” moving to other parishes or communities where they can look after their own sanity and spiritual needs.

And most people, I imagine, are called at different times in their life to do one and at another time to do the other- particularly, I would think, when children are a factor, and one must consider the environment they are to be raised and formed in.

We should, none of us, judge anyone else for their decision to do one or other.

We also, each of us, should take very seriously the discernment of which path is the right one for ourselves and for our families. God often calls us to work and to places which seem to us not to be our natural inclination: it may be that many “fighters” are called away to prayer, while many “prayers” are called onward to the fight.

Stabat Mater Translation

We did not observe the Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows in the Ordinary Form this year, since September 15th fell on a Sunday. A hymn often associated with Lenten celebrations of the Stations of the Cross, the Stabat Mater Dolorosa, is actually the Sequence for Our Lady of Sorrows, to be read or sung before the Alleluia in the Ordinary form, where it is optional, or following (hence the term sequentia) the Alleluia in the Extraordinary form.

Sequences like hymns declined in the fifteenth century, and reached their lowest stage of decadence where they had most flourished in the twelfth and thirteenth (viz. in France). 5000 sequences of the most varying value have already come to light; they are a testimony to the Christian literary activity in the West during seven centuries, and are especially significant for the influence they exercised on the development of poetry and music. For the Gregorian melodies were taken over by them and preserved with fidelity and conservatism; with the admission of sequences and tropes into the liturgy, ecclesiastical music found its opportunity for further development and glorious growth. (Catholic Encyclopedia)

When translating the Stabat Mater, I was rather surprised by the depth of its meaning, something that might be lost when simply rendering a text into English as a devotional or processional hymn. The sequence itself is highly theological, expressing a hope of entering into the expiating power of the Crucifixion by standing beside Mary, who stands beside the cross.

On the Cross her Son was dying.
Mary stood beneath Him crying,
Sharing in His saving cross.
As He hangs, her soul is grieving,
and a sword her heart is cleaving
and she weeps the bitter loss.

O, the sad, afflicted Mother
of the Son beyond all others:
only Son of God most high.
Full of grief, her heart is aching;
watching Him, her body, quaking,
trembles as her offspring dies.

Who would see Christ’s mother crying
at the bitter crucifying
without tears of sympathy?
Who could see her depth of feeling—
thoughts of many hearts revealing—
and not share her agony?

Pardon for our sins entreating,
She saw Him endure the beating.
All our guilt on Him was cast.
She stood by in contemplation
When her Son, in desolation
Breathed His spirit forth at last.

Font of love, O Blessed Mother,
lend me tears to mourn my Brother.
Never let my ardor dim.
Let my heart be burning freely,
Christ my God be pleased to see me
all on fire with love for Him.

This I ask, O Holy Mary,
that His wounds I too may carry:
fix them deeply in my heart.
Mine the burden He was bearing;
let me in His pain be sharing;
of His suffering take a part.

Let me join in your lamenting,
through my life weep unrelenting
tears for Jesus Crucified.
Let me stand and share your weeping,
all the day death’s vigil keeping,
glad to stand close by your side.

Queen of all the virgin choir,
judge me not when I aspire
your pure tears to emulate.
Let me share in Christ’s affliction—
death by bitter crucifixion—
and His wounds commemorate.

Let me taste the pains He offered,
drunk with love for Him who suffered.
May His wounds become my own.
On the day of Christ’s returning
may my heart be lit and burning.
Virgin, aid me at His throne.

May His Cross be interceding
and His death my vict’ry pleading.
May He hold me in His grace.
When my flesh by death is taken,
may my soul to glory waken
and in heaven take a place. Amen.