Chant Café

News from St. Michael’s Abbey in Orange County, CA:

Since 1962, St. Michael’s Summer Camp has been providing boys with a unique summer camp experience. Operated by the Norbertine Fathers and fraters (brothers) on their beautiful abbey grounds, the camp combines summer fun with opportunities for growth in the Catholic Faith. Boys from ages 7-12 participate in a number of sports, swimming, hiking, and campfires–as well as Confession, catechism classes, daily Mass, and more! This year, the camp staff is pleased to introduce Sacred Music Week, a week of camp dedicated to learning and singing Gregorian chant and other sacred music. Sacred Music Week (July 28 – August 3) will provide campers with all the usual summer camp activities, in addition to daily choir classes and opportunities to sing for the Holy Mass. No auditions or previous singing experience is required. St. Michael’s Summer Camp is accredited by the American Camp Association. For more information or to register, please visit http://www.stmichaelsabbey.com/summer-camp/

In the Catholic Herald a few days ago, Michael Duggan reviewed a new edition of historian Tim Dowley’s  book on the history of Christian music. I haven’t seen it before, but it may be useful.

Here’s an image of the table of contents from the previous edition (click to enlarge): 

More information is at the UK publisher and at Amazon.

The cardinal-monk and Church reformer St. Peter Damian had a hobby. He wrote hymns.

It’s lovely, I think. that this zealous and gifted leader who wrote against the sins of Gomorrah among the clerics of his day, and revived the use of physical discipline as a help to the soul, also showed himself to be truly a simple monk at heart.

Before they were rewritten in the 17th century, many of the hymns of our vast treasury were characterized by a candor and simplicity that would seem to belong peculiarly to the monastery. And yet their devotional tone also shares with us profound theological truths.

Among the objects of St. Peter’s devotions was the Blessed Virgin Mary, whom we acknowledge in our day as the Mother of the Church.

Today would be a good day to offer our prayers with his for the Church’s purification in trial, perseverance in truth, and the blessings of endless multitudes of new Catholics devoted to, and trusting in, Jesus Christ, whose graces come to us through the “yes” of our Blessed Mother.

O Theotokos, Mary blest,
Our human nature’s shining crest,
Through you we have our liberty,
Free children of the light to be.

O Virgin, Queen of heav’n and earth,
Though of King David’s stock by birth,
Your royal dignity has come
Not from your fathers, but your Son.

Remove us from the ancient root.
Graft us in Him, the newborn shoot.
Through you may we become by grace,
A royal, priestly, human race.

O offer holy prayers to win
Release from all our bonds of sin.
We praise your merits to the skies:
May we in heaven share your prize.

Exemplar of virginity,
Give glory to the Trinity,
Whose endless treasure-store of gifts
Through you our human nature lifts.

St. Peter Damian. My trans.

 On one occasion Abba Moses of Patara was engaged in a war against fornication, and he could not endure being in ‎his cell, and he went and informed Abba Isidore of it; and the elder entreated him to return to his cell, but he would ‎not agree to this. And having said, “Fr., I cannot bear it,” the elder took him up to the roof of his cell, and said ‎unto him, “Look to the west,” and when he looked he saw multitudes of devils with troubled and terrified aspects, ‎and they showed themselves in the forms of phantoms which were in fighting attitudes. Abba Isidore said unto him, ‎‎”Look to the east,” and when he looked he saw innumerable holy angels standing there, and they were in a state of ‎great glory. Then Abba Isidore said unto him, “Behold, those who are in the west are those who are fighting with the ‎holy ones, and those whom you have seen in the east are they who are sent by God to the help of the saints, for those ‎who are with us are many.” And having seen this Abba Moses took courage and returned to his cell without fear.

For two thousand years, in season and out of season–mostly out of season–the Catholic Church has been fighting a war against principality and powers.

Our collective wisdom on battle tactics, if used in cooperation with the grace of God, which we enjoy in full sacramental measure, should be more than enough to overcome any malevolence, including the spirit of fornication.

Let’s face the fact that the 20th century was a century of total war on every level, and that wise fathers were hard to find even in the Church. Some were not fathers at all but perverse and perverting uncles.

Sexual abuse is not a Catholic problem. It is a human problem. But the Catholic Church is unique.

Because we have the solution.

We are called to be a city on a hill, attracting others to Christ by the authenticity of our re-creation by the water and the Blood. We have the call, and the means, to be a singular oasis of goodness and freedom. We have hard-won solutions to problems of loneliness, shame, compulsion, bad friendships, gluttony, sloth, curiositas–all of the handmaids of fornication. And we have a superabundance of grace if only we avail ourselves of it. If only we ask for it.

If only we put our faith in God.

Leonard J. DeLorenzo of Notre Dame’s McGrath Institute for Church Life believes there is more to working with young people than meeting them as equals, or teachers.

The scriptural validation for the approach to “walking with” that the Synod has heralded is the action of Jesus in his encounter with the two travelers on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13–35). As stated in the final document, “the Risen Lord wants to walk alongside all young people, hearing their expectations, even those that are unmet, and their hopes, even those that are paltry. Jesus walks, listens and shares” (§5). This is not wrong. What it is, though, is a partial reading of this narrative that functions more like eisegesis than as a faithful contemplation of Scripture.

Yes, Jesus draws near and, yes, he does ask the travelers what they are discussing (twice) and he does indeed listen to everything they have to say (through verse 24). But then Jesus takes control of the action. He starts off by calling those two chatty, downcast, disoriented travelers “foolish” (v. 25).

The impression that the final document gives—along with the preparatory document before it—is that this conversation on the road is an exercise in mutuality, in paired sharing, and in equality. Since Jesus drew near and listened to the travelers, the Church must do what Jesus did and listen to young people. But that leaves out the truly decisive thing: Jesus does not stop at listening to them; Jesus leads them because they really do not know where they are going. His business is to communicate a gift to them. After silencing and teaching them how to listen (not unlike Zechariah who had to learn how to listen at the beginning of this same Gospel), he reforms their imaginations according to the scriptures. He illuminates for them the meaning of his suffering, and then he feeds them with his sacrifice, filling them with a mission on the basis of this intentional formation. Hope hangs in the balance, and so does salvation.

Might this complete action of Jesus actually reveal what a true, genuine encounter with young people should be? Jesus forms them, educates them, preaches to them, nourishes them, and frees them so that they may become witnesses of his Gospel. The point was not in Jesus listening for its own sake; the point was listening to them in order to skillfully heal, liberate, and empower them. The Church should do what Jesus did—all of what he did. That is how we form mature disciples.

The guiding vision for this Synod could and should have been about what mature Christian discipleship looks like. The critical issue is not first of all that young people are lost but rather that the Church has become all too vague in what we hope for young people to become. And when I say “the Church,” I mean the gross majority of those of us called upon to form young people, including parents, ministers, mentors, teachers, religious, priests, and bishops. I also mean our institutions of formation in which young people—from their earliest years to their ripe old years—are supposed to be culturally formed: parishes, religious education programs, schools, lay associations, ecclesial movements, and the family home. Because we have lost touch with what mature discipleship looks like, what constitutes true life, and what holiness means, our ways of forming young people in the faith have become dysfunctional. This Synod should have asked and clearly answered the question “What are we forming young people for?” and considered everything else—including what young people themselves say—in view of that.

Much more here.

[In the course of a recent on-line conversation about why secular-sounding music doesn’t belong in the Mass, I offered this comment.]

I could understand the intention to create an easy, comfortable experience for outsiders: having the interior of the building look like an auditorium or a shopping mall food court; having no-brainer music that sounds like evangelical choruses from Christian radio. Some clergy and musicians might think that a soft-style approach would help some people feel comfortable setting foot in a Catholic parish church: people whose background didn’t include the faith.

This approach has its limitations, though: it doesn’t provide the liturgical formation that growing Christians need. It reminds me of the idea of having separate Masses for various age groups of young people on Sunday. It’s well-meant, and some people say they like it. But it creates a ghetto situation, and doesn’t lead the children into the regular parish experience.

If there were a Mass conducted specifically for “seekers” as a transitional experience for them — where they wouldn’t be expected to know the rites, sing the songs, stand or sit; where people who aren’t Catholic and aren’t ready to receive Holy Communion could stay in their pews without standing out: there might be some benefit for some souls.

But treating the whole parish as though they aren’t able to appreciate the authentic rites, or genuine church art, or music that sounds like church music: as though these things were over their heads: that’s really a kind of disrespect, and an imposition.

The soft-style approach is ultimately even deceptive, because Christianity is not a low-commitment religion that people can reasonably take or leave, according to their personal tastes and preferences. Belonging to Jesus is a matter of high commitment.