You can view it here. This is going to do a world of good.
A Catholic History of the Internet
This is very funny from JasonbachCartoons.com
Newsflash: Contemporary P&W songs don’t really say much
NPR carries the story of the abysmal quality of many contemporary praise songs, and about one pair of musicians who are trying to do something about it (by writing new contemporary praise songs that are better).
“I think it’s to the church’s poverty that the average worship song now has so few words, so little truth,” he says. “[It] is so focused on several commercial aspects of God, like the fact that he loves our praises.”
Kristyn Getty says that some of the most popular music doesn’t show God the proper reverence.
“There is an unhelpful, casual sense that comes with some of the more contemporary music,” she says. “It’s not how I would talk to God.”
http://www.npr.org/2013/07/08/200013769/modern-hymn-writers-aim-to-take-back-sunday
There are important lessons here for us in both the nature of their complaints and the commercial success they are achieving in attempting to address them.
Let our hearts beat as one!
BBC News reports that singers in a choir synchronize their heartbeats.
[Researchers] found that the more structured the work, the more the singers’ heart rates increased or decreased together.
Slow chants, for example, produced the most synchronicity.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-23230411
Makes you just wanna belt out “We are one body, one body in Christ,” doesn’t it?
(h/t Aristotle Esguerra, via FaceBook)
A pleasant surprise from Cardine
I was in the library the other day here at the Liturgical Institute in Mundelein and, while doing some research on Ambrosian chant, I stumbled across a little tract on the shelf by the father of Gregorian Semiology, Dom Eugene Cardine. The little book, published in 1964, was entitled: Is Gregorian Chant Measured Music? A Critique of the Book by Dr. J. W. A. Vollaerts, S.J. “Rhythmic Proportions in Early Medieval Ecclesiastical Chant”.
The topic is naturally of great interest to me, but I was especially intrigued by this because I have recently observed some adherents to Vollaerts’ (as well as Dom Gregory Murray’s) mensuralism who describe themselves as semiologists who have produced chant interpretations that are strikingly different from anything that I have ever taken from Cardine.
So I opened the book to have a look and found a pleasant surprise:
The cover page bears Cardine’s signature along with a number “6” which perhaps suggests that this was the sixth copy to go out. There is also a valediction inscribed in French which I could not at first make out.
So I took a picture of the page and sent it to my trusted chant teacher and mentor, Fr. Columba Kelly, OSB, who completed doctoral studies in Gregorian Musicology under Cardine in Rome in 1963 and I thought that this might bring back some memories for him. Indeed it did. He wrote back:
Dear Adam,
The word is musicalment, the French word for musically. It is a barb against the mensurastical type of approach to chant!
I did a master’s thesis on Vollaerts, the result of which he has included in his rebuttal of Murray and Vollaerts.
Fr. Columba
Needless to say, he was familiar with the tract!
I find Cardine’s wry wit in this little memento to be quite charming and endearing, actually. Every time that I talk with Fr. Columba I can almost hear Cardine speaking through him. I will never understand why this treasure of a scholar has been so overlooked in our times. Anyone who has the opportunity to study with this giant who is now in his 82nd year should definitely not pass it up!
[Update/Correction: Commenters have informed me that the valediction is “amicalement”, meaning “friendly yours”, and what I thought was a number 6 is actually a common French abbreviation for the Benedictine order, “moine bénédictin”.]
I like chant for all the wrong reasons
People say we should sing chant because it is more solemn and dignified.
I disagree.
I think chant melodies are wild and ecstatic.
People say that we shouldn’t sing chant because it makes it hard for the congregation to sing.
And too many chant-supporters agree with that, but say, “Well- that’s okay, they don’t need to sing.”
I disagree.
While some chants are soloistic in nature (just like some contemporary songs), the chants which are intended for group-singing (hymns, psalm tones, short antiphons, acclamations from the Ordinary) are much easier to sing than any pop or folk song.
People say we should sing chant because it is Traditional.
I disagree.
I think we should sing it because doing so is revolutionary.
People say that we shouldn’t sing chant because people need familiar music at Mass.
And too many chant-supporters agree that chant is unfamiliar, but say this is a good thing, that people don’t need Mass to be “comfortable.”
I disagree.
I think that the constant changing of musical styles to fit the trends is a constant source of unfamiliarity and discomfort, and that a stable repertoire of chants would provide the comfort and familiarity that all people long for.
People say we should sing chant because the texts are orthodox.
I disagree.
I think the scriptural message and the medieval poetry is more radical and liberating than any modernist manifesto.
People say that we shouldn’t sing chant because the texts are not understandable (being in Latin) and therefore the people cannot understand the liturgy.
And too many chant-supporters agree that the Latin makes the liturgy impenetrable, but say that this is a good thing, that it acts “like a veil,” that the liturgy really is impenetrable, and that lay understanding of the Mass is neither possible nor particularly desirable.
I disagree.
I think that all the faithful should be encouraged to understand the liturgy as fully as possible and that the veil of mystery that separates the elite clerics and the general population should be torn down, as on the first Good Friday, and that only by providing the faithful with the real, actual texts and traditions of the Mass can this be accomplished.
People say we should sing chant because the correct ars celebrandi reinforces the appropriate ecclesiology.
I disagree.
I think that the monastic tradition in which the chant flourished and matured has always stood both in partnership with and also in opposition to the authority of the hierarchy.
People say that we shouldn’t sing chant because it is too elitist, too hierarchical, too academic. They say that it does not harmonize with the teachings of Jesus, or with the “Poor Church” of Pope Francis.
And too many chant-supporters essentially agree with this view, but say that this is a good thing, that there is nothing wrong with being elitist, hierarchical, or academic.
I disagree.
I think that chant’s simplicity and plainness is one of its essential qualities, and that it stands in contrast to the elitism of music that requires special training, special instruments, and specialist musicians with the time to plan and rehearse it.
People say we should sing chant because it is “Apollonian,” appealing to the mind and reason, rather than the baser, “Dionysian” emotionalism.
I disagree.
I am deeply moved by chant generally, and by specific pieces in the repertoire in particular, to excesses of emotionalism that many people would consider completely inappropriate for a solemn liturgical celebration, and in ways that defy all reason or rationality.
People say they can’t do chant, because its too hard.
And too many chant-supporters agree that it is hard, but say that it’s okay for to be hard or that its difficulty is one of its virtues.
I disagree.
I think that it is hard to pick out four or five meaningful and appropriate pieces of congregational music which also illuminate the texts of the lectionary every week, hard to keep track of trends, hard to please people with divergent tastes in music.
People say we should sing chant because it will help return us to a more pure or more devout faith from our glorious past.
I disagree.
I believe that there really has been no glorious past, only a constant glorious ideal.
Time to Get Serious About the Offertory Chant
Every Mass-going Catholic knows what happens at the Offertory during Mass. It is a segment of the liturgy that follows that final petition in the prayer of the faithful. Everyone sits down and gets comfortable for a bit.
The liturgy of the word has ended and the liturgy of the Eucharist is set to begin soon. But first the people are given an opportunity to put money in the basket as the ushers walk row by row. That money is put into a bigger basket and it is brought up the center aisle to the altar along with the bread and wine.
Then the Eucharistic Prayer begins. After another few minutes, the people stand again. The Offertory has come and gone. Is there any more to it than that? Is it really a kind of intermission that divides one section of Mass from another?
Let’s look at the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, paragraph #74:
The procession bringing the gifts is accompanied by the Offertory Chant, which continues at least until the gifts have been placed on the altar. The norms on the manner of singing are the same as for the Entrance Chant.
Most priests and choirs read that sentence and think: “the what? Never heard of it.”
Maybe “offertory chant” refers to some song or hymn or motet sung by the choir, just some random musical interlude we stick in there to pass the time. Not so. It is a prescribe part of the liturgy, even if it is almost universally dropped.
And as usual with the General Instruction, when people encounter some sentence or two that they don’t understand, they choose not to investigate further but rather to forget about it completely.
As a result, the offertory chant is rarely if ever sung in the ordinary form of Mass. And actually, this is rather shocking. It means that a major part of the liturgical text of the Mass is just being eliminated at our discretion, cut out or entirely replaced without a thought. And no one knows the difference. Surely, this is cheating the people, and cheating God too. Rather than pray the Mass we are instead deciding to do something else.
It doesn’t help that the mainstream pew resources say nothing of the offertory chant. They might list the entrance antiphon. They might list the communion antiphon. On weekdays, someone will usually read these. On Sunday, they are jettisoned for a hymn. But the offertory antiphon (which is actually technically called a responsory), is in even worse shape. It not not only excluded completely; it is not even missed.
I’ve done some private investigation of this problem myself, asking priests why they don’t insist that their choirs sing the offertory chant. Guess what? I couldn’t find a single priest who even knew that such a thing exists. Among the people I asked are very sophisticated and conscientious celebrants who are interested in “saying the black and doing the red.” These are not slackers here. The offertory chant just isn’t on the radar for them.
Now, this is interesting. Maybe it is some new part of the Mass introduced with the new English Missal? Not so. The liturgical documents of the 4th century indicate that the offertory is a very ancient part of the Mass. St. Augustine mentions such a chant too.
The action of the bringing forward of the gifts is a part of the offertory liturgy that was eliminated in the middle ages and underwent a restoration after the Second Vatican Council. But the records also indicate that the singing of a Psalm during this period is just as ancient. That part of the liturgical action as well. It was part of the medieval rite that was not eliminated. The offertory chant was prescribed to be sung by the schola in all pre-conciliar books, and it was a common feature of the Gregorian repertoire before late 1960s. .
With the post-conciliar reform, the bringing of the gifts was restored but the Psalm-based chant that had long been part of the offertory dropped out in practice, despite the mention of the chant in the rubrical instructions. There can be no real question that the conciliar reformers intended it as part of Mass. The song books that came out after the liturgical reform from 1969 through 1974 all included the offertory chant that is now absent without leave in most every presentation of the Mass in the ordinary form.
Here a clue as to why this happened. The offertory chant used to be part of the Missal on the altar, a text that was either sung by the choir or spoken by the priest in “low Masses” before the Council. When the Missal of 1970 made its first appearance, this chant was not included because the reformers imagined that every Mass would be a fully sung Mass, meaning that the offertory chant belonged to the schola, not to the celebrant. The Missal only contained the texts the the priest needed and no more. The rest of the texts were included in the liturgical books for the choir (just as the readings are part of a separate book called the Lectionary).
This explains why priests are largely oblivious to the existence of the offertory chant. Meanwhile, today’s choirs hardly even know that there are liturgical books for the choir at all. This too is an amazing oversight. When the new Missal was released, Pope Paul VI stated very plainly in the introduction that the Roman Gradual remains the music book for the Roman Rite. This is the book that contains all the assigned chants for the whole liturgical year. It has the entrance chant, the offertory chant, the communion chant, and all the Psalms and Alleluias too.
But the Roman Gradual gained no traction in these heady years when publishers and musicians were more interested in retrofitting pop songs with religious texts to make the Mass more accessible. Gregorian chant was out. Pop music was in. All the sung propers of the Mass were casualties, but the offertory chant even more than all the other chants. As a result, the offertory chant sits on the shelf gathering dust.
Now, you might say that this is hardly a surprise since that is generally true of all Gregorian chant. No one wants to hear the Latin, right? But this objection doesn’t quite hold up since there are plenty of English versions available today. And the music is available too.
So how does this work in practice? Instead of a coke-and-popcorn intermission, the Offertory period of the liturgy becomes an integral part of the liturgical action, and the presentation of the appointed text makes this very clear.
Consider the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time as an example. The Gospel is from St. Luke, Chapter 11. Jesus presents the “Our Father” prayer, and urges his disciples to pray it. He ends with the famous words: “ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”
The offertory text on this sae day is from Psalm 30: “I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn
me up, and have not let my foes rejoice over me. O Lord, I cried unto you and you healed me.”
With this text we recall the words of the Gospel, or, rather, we experience how the Psalms foreshadowed the coming of the Messiah. The “Our Father” is precisely this act of extolling and the plea to be delivered from one’s foes. And the promise that we can ask and receive is seen in the Psalmist’s experience of crying out to the Lord and being healed.
The offertory, in this case, serves to reinforce and broaden the Gospel text and prepare us for the sacrifice on the altar the follows.
And so it is throughout the entire liturgical year. Every single Sunday has an appointed text. It should be sung every week, and even throughout the week.
From a practical point of view, the offertory chant has great advantages for choirs too. Instead of fishing around for another hymn that may or may not fit in with the liturgical structure, and badgering people to sing along with yet another participatory moment, the offertory chant permits people to sit quietly in reflection and contemplate.
A marvelous example of how this works comes from the Sacred Music Colloquium I attended only two weeks ago. The first Mass was all English. Keep in mind that the singers here are all people who came to the conference. It is not a professional group. They rehearsed together for the first time only a few hours earlier. Here you will heard the the antiphon: “I will bless the Lord who has given me understanding. I have set the Lord always in my sight; since he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.” Then follows more Psalms.
Singing this restores not only a practice that dates to the earliest centuries but one that continued without interruption until the 1970s, when it fell out of use almost inadvertently. It can be restored exactly as the General Instruction suggests in every parish, with very little work at all. The book from which this setting is taken is the Simple English Propers, so the congregation doesn’t have to suddenly adapt itself to Latin to experience the liturgy.
Here is a great example of something that has been on my mind for some years. The beautification of the Mass doesn’t require legislation. It doesn’t require that Bishops crack down. It doesn’t even require that music publishers get with it and start telling us what to do. It is within the power of every priest simply to ask the choir to sing the liturgy itself rather than sings songs at Mass. The text is there for us and the music too. It is simply a matter of making an effort to present the liturgy as it has been given to us.