In this recent article by Arlene Oost-Zinner and Jeffrey Tucker, as published in the May 2004 issue of Crisis Magazine, we read of "Fourteen Easy Ways to Improve the Liturgy". Once the progressives have brought out all the tools in their kit, there will inevitably be repetition. It takes a great deal of time and energy to keep novelty up to par. Once the point is made that Mass is going to be "exciting", the expectation will be in place, and thus the liturgists then need to deliver - each week - an exceedingly difficult task. Eventually, some sort of routine must prevail. That's when the problems begin.
Boredom during liturgy is something all Catholics have felt from time to time, and it is never justifiable. No matter how mundane the architecture, how dull the homily, or how bad the music, what is taking place on the altar is a miraculous sacrifice that gives us grace to obtain salvation. That reality should be enough to gain and keep our attention, and keep us actively participating through prayer.
However, that's not what generally happens. The problem, as the authors see it, is that the atmosphere of excitement is artificial, and is thus difficult to artificially sustain.
There are, however, ways to break with routine and inspire steadfastness and personal attachment to the liturgy.Of course, the suggestions they give fall into the category of moderate, and based on what they might expect the typical reader to be willing to try. On the assumption that the things the authors advise against are in fact being done in the reader's parish, we might conclude that the typical reader is a member of a thoroughly progressive parish.
- Turn down the volume.
- Chant for a prelude.
- Curb the announcements.
- Choose plain, traditional hymns for processional.
- Sing the Kyrie.
- Choose a plainer Gloria.
- Fix the Psalm.
- The Offertory as Preparation.
- Reduce and simplify the "Mystery of Faith" and the "Great Amen."
- Shorten the "Sign of Peace."
- Begin the communion chant (a simply Latin Hymn will do) after the priest receives.
- Don't force people to sing during communion.
- Allow for silence after communion.
- Don't attempt a rousing goodbye.
Once the easy things have been accomplished, and the parishes begin to reap the good fruits of their efforts, it might be a good idea to have a follow-up article called, "Fourteen Most Important Ways to Improve the Liturgy." This article would instead begin with the premise that the pastor and music director are single-minded in their respect for authentic liturgical renewal according to the Second Vatican Council. Thus we shall continue along the path of true progress in liturgical reform. Given the widespread renewed interest in chant in America, it appears the time is ripe for just such an effort. I look forward to the key insights the authors have to offer, based on their extensive experience, and steady resolve in promoting authentic liturgical renewal.
Moderate is a good choice of words, and moderation is necessary at first. Although genuine liturgical renewal is the goal, it is important to note that many pastors and parishioners don't even know what liturgical renewal means. Some, out of ignorance, have no idea that there is anything wrong in the first place. Others, more learned and yearning for solemnity, have no idea WHERE to begin. People and parishes need to be brought along in a practical way.
Introducing changes now, slowly, gradually, even modest ones, will raise awareness on a broader scale. In time, a real appreciation will emerge. The chant and genuine liturgy are timeless, true and beautiful, and their might will not falter. Good form speaks for itself.
Yes, we were certainly working within the framework of "real life" liturgy, not necessarily progressive parishes as such but the "modal" American parish. I recall being at the North American College in the Vatican and being stunned to find the same music and liturgical approach you find in any suburb in the US.
A friend read this article and called me today to say that in his parish in Maryland, the crew that controls 9am on Sunday has been doing the SAME Mass setting for 20 years, and each week they do it as if it should inspire people with its upbeat tempos etc but of course the reality is that people are in a stupor. He was excited just to hand this piece to some people in the parish with the suggestion that they try it out.
As Arlene says, most people have no idea where to begin to change things, not even young pastors who desire a change toward solemnity. In the workshops we have conducted, we rarely find anyone under the age of 60 who knows the Veni Creator or Ubi Caritas. Chant is unknown, as is the liturgical sensibility that supports chant, and Latin terrifies people.
Given how far we have fallen, most parishes require small steps, but so very worth taking.
Mrs. Oost-Zinner and Mr. Tucker have good suggestions, of course. Had I my druthers with respect to their first point, though, I would just go ahead and follow the example of the Anglican minister in New Zealand and rip out all microphones in each church I came to. There was an article in Sacred Music (have you paid your dues yet?) some time ago about how a priest was heartbroken to return to the historic stone monastery in central Europe where his family attended Mass when he was a youth. He was forced to hear the Consecration through a (miserable!) sound system. What is the difference between that and watching television?
But I digress. What surprised me about these thoughtful and constructive offerings of Mrs. Oost-Zinner and Mr. Tucker was that they did not mention the propers of the Mass. Chant, psalms, Communion music ... it is all there!
About Communion music: the organ must never be substituted for the voice, so the GIRM leaves us no option (sigh). However, the Communion antiphon (with or without psalm verses) may immediately be sung by the choir, or even the congregation, and it is quite short, so that takes care of the obligation. If you want to have additional congregational song -- and why not? -- how about singing it kneeling, sitting, or standing after the procession is over or almost over? In between the antiphon and the song, the organist may play something based on the antiphon, on the song, or some other piece, especially one based on a Eucharistic chant.
On the question of strategy and pace of change, I just bumped into this interesting post at Catholic Light. It describes a parish setting that seems rather typical: 3 Masses on Sunday, and only one employs some Latin sometimes, and the musicians responsible for the introduction of some traditional music are fielding complaints. This is a very typical case. Sometimes there is just once chance to do it right: doing nothing means unrelenting decline but moving too quickly toward the final goal can destroy the prospects of long-term success. Much thought and effort need to be put into the method and means of change, as well as the attitude and spirit in which that change is brought about. Chant and its stylistic descendents can't be imposed from the outside; they must be carefully woven into the fabric of parish culture in ways that meet with the approval and understanding of the faithful.
Friends,
There is a beautiful small chapel in my town with a fine and liquid acoustic. There is a small French organ in the loft which has fallen into complete, utter disuse. The choir stands in front of the Virgin, microphoned of course, and the cantor/guitarist sings as loudly as he can into the podium mic, which actually caused me, in the back pew, to wince.
Into the creamy plaster walls around the nave are drilled steel supports for tight-sounding speakers which reproduce Haugen/Haas in the most nasal and keening timbres possible.
Appropriately enough, looking sternly down on the pews from the apse is a Pantocrator on a field of acid green.
It is amazing, simply amazing to me that this once-lovely church is now a garish, blaring mess. During the Mass, I felt physically assaulted. Of course no one in the pews sang but the cantor and the eight or ten nervous teenagers behind him. It was just incredible.
It is liturgies like that which make me wish, during Communion, for a collective and frightening apparition of Christ Overturning The Tables of the Money-Changers at the Temple.
I would settle for a pieta'.
A wish list:
1. Turn off the microphones, especially in small churches with live acoustics. People will move down front to hear, and they will listen more closely. Their participation will be fuller.
2. Turn off the floodlights. The liturgy is not a night game at the fieldhouse. Light pouring through stained glass is beautiful -- floodlights completely negate the effect.
3. Burn incense. Use altar girls and extraordinary ministers *only* as a last resort.
4. Chant in English. Use Latin and Greek for key communal moments such as the Kyrie, etc.
Best,
Anthony
All this is very interesting.
Yes, I have paid my dues. (Haven't played or sung through the ordinary in the new issue yet, though.)
Not sure I agree with all the suggestions. A "rousing" recessional, for instance, if people would actually recess to it is infinitely preferable to an absence of music, or to gentle music if those options only "rouse" congregants to raise their voices to ask after the golf game, arrange brunch dates and complain about the way they resurfaced the church parking lot. I sometimes inappropriately hit "grand orgue" for a bit of Couperin or snatch of Saint-Saens just to drive the chatterers into the vestibule and leave the narthex to those who intend to stay in quiet adoration.
And no, you can't do anything too fast in a parish that's been trying to entertain itself for the past 3 or 4 decades (unsuccessfully, judging from rising memebership and income but declining attendance). The liturgy committee at my new post all boggled when, when asked to explain why I was programming "so much" chant (a single piece, the responsorial psalm, and that only every other week!) I said I was fulfilling the directives of Vatican Two and the GIRM. They don't even KNOW. They think chant was "banned" the way Latin was "banned." They were very upset when I programmed a song they LIKE for the entrance -- well, it happened to be the correct psalm for the introit.
And the whole idea of doing the correct psalm for the day, or the actual gospel acclamtion, rather than a multi-purpose one devised by everyones favorite Lutheran-turned-Congregationalist "Catholic music" composer -- that gives them conniptions. What is the virtue of the missal of Paul VI opening up virtually the entirety of scripture if we don't USE the right scripture, if we do the same psalms over and over? (and don't even get me started on the "Children's Lectionary" -- even the first graders are sick of the "A farmer went to sow some seeds..." by its eleventh or twelfth use. "That's not a gathering song!")
And that whole "excitement" thang -- we have a deacon directing faith formation and he talks endlessly about how "excited" and "spirit-filled" his confirmation students are by the happy-clappy services he devises. Sure they are. That's why they all stop showing up the minute they are confirmed. (He reads here, he'll probably bust me for this). He lets them think it's all about themselves, their wants, their desires, thier enjoyment -- and they suddenly realize what they desire is to sleep in on Sundays, and what will entertain them is brunch at Hooters.
Even if they manage not to be quite so self-centered, they are taught that it is the gathering that is important, that Christ's presence in other people is His primary presnce, and they are smart enough to realize that if other people are the primary attraction, they can run into them just as well at the mall or on the links.
Hey, have I rambled enough?
Anyway, keep up the good fight.