Musical Touchstone

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In examining Sacrosanctum Concilium, the magna carta of twentieth century liturgical reform, we see many worthwhile initiatives being spelled out more or less explicitly. Some of it, of course, provided only general guidance, where details were to be fleshed out later.

But it is hard to imagine that, in some cases, those details would actually contradict the mandates given in the Constitution itself. Not that the Church contradicted Herself, but that many reformers seemed to have established some sort of informal consensus as to what they really wanted the Constitution to say. And thus they imposed a new interpretation on the historical document. This is sometimes known as the "Spirit of Vatican II".

In many places in the document (and many other Church documents, for that matter), you will find an assertion made or mandate given. This is to be the general rule, which is to be observed. Then, you will find some sort of explanation, which attempts to shed insight into the rule, or sometimes highlight those instances where exceptions might be made. Under the hypothesis that I propose, one will see those desiring to faithfully take up, accept and implement the given rule. I'll call these reformers "realists", for they accept the document at face value. There are, of course, others who do not accept the mandates at face value. They are the ones who make it a point to find reasons why the mandate should not be carried out. This is often found in the explanation of the mandate. I'll call these reformers "dreamers", because they go out of their way to dream up ways to neutralize and vacate the mandates given.

There is certainly a risk of over-generalizing, in what I am about to say. But I believe that unless general patterns are detected and brought to light, we may never sufficiently clarify the issues for those whose responsibility it is to know these things according to the mind of the Church.

You see, the paradigm, as I have called it, is like a touchstone or reference point. The "realists" use as a touchstone the text itself. This is why they often refer to it, because it states explicitly what they believe needs to be carried out in liturgical reform. The "dreamers", on the other hand, have their own touchstone. Whenever they hear of a mandate, they put it in the context of the paradigm they already have in mind. Thus, hearing that the Church mandates a particular practice can easily be overriden to them, because of some other statement used as their reference point.

For example, take paragraph 114:

The treasure of sacred music is to be preserved and fostered with great care. Choirs must be diligently promoted, especially in cathedral churches; but bishops and other pastors of souls must be at pains to ensure that, whenever the sacred action is to be celebrated with song, the whole body of the faithful may be able to contribute that active participation which is rightly theirs, as laid down in Art. 28 and 30."
The realist will take the opening sentence quite seriously, while the dreamer wishes away that requirement, or believes that is someone else's responsibility. And even considering the sentences that follow it, which would be meaningless in the absence of the first, we should be able to see that the "active participation" of the "body of the faithful" is actually to be understood in light of the "treasure of sacred music". That's what it is they are supposed to be singing. The realists see that clearly. The dreamers ignore the first sentence because it does not fit with their musical touchstone.

Look next at paragraph 115:

Great importance is to be attached to the teaching and practice of music in seminaries, in the novitiates and houses of study of religious of both sexes, and also in other Catholic institutions and schools. To impart this instruction, teachers are to be carefully trained and put in charge of the teaching of sacred music. It is desirable also to found higher institutes of sacred music whenever this can be done. Composers and singers, especially boys, must also be given a genuine liturgical training.
So, what music is to be taught? In light of the preceding paragraph, it is none other than the existing treasury of sacred music. It even mentions how teachers are to be "carefully trained". In what? In the existing body of sacred music. In addition, "higher institutes" should also be founded, where possible. To the realist, all this is clear. To the dreamer, it is profitable to forget that this was written in reference to the existing body of sacred music, or even to expand the definition of scared music to the point that maintaining the existing treasury becomes a superfluous exercise.

Let's look now at paragraph 116, the central bone of contention between realists and dreamers.

The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as specially suited to the Roman Liturgy: therefore, other things being equal, it should be given pride of place in liturgical services. But other kinds of sacred music, especially polyphony, are by no means excluded from liturgical celebrations, so long as they accord with the spirit of the liturgical action, as laid down in Art. 30.
The realist sees that Gregorian chant deserves "pride of place", and works tirelessly toward that ideal. The dreamer, on the other hand, uses the "other things being equal" as a reference point. To the dreamer, whatever those "other things" are, they are never going to be equal. As a result, the "pride of place" becomes a meaningless requirement.

And now, on to paragraph 117:

The editio typica of the books of Gregorian chant is to be completed; and a more critical edition is to be prepared of those books already published since the restoration by Saint Pius X. It is desirable also that an edition be prepared containing simpler melodies, for use in small churches.
The "editio typica", as I understand it, is the Graduale Romanum, as completed by Solesmes. The simpler melodies are in the Graduale Simplex. To the realist, this is important information, because it tells him what resources to use in liturgical music. To the dreamer, this is just more fluff, because chant is nowhere on his radar. Do you see the pattern?

Paragraph 118:

Religious singing by the people is to be intelligently fostered so that in devotions and sacred exercises, as also during liturgical services, the voices of the faithful may ring out according to the norms and requirements of the rubrics.
That is, singing the chant that has already been described.

Paragraph 119:

In certain parts of the world, especially mission lands, there are peoples who have their own musical traditions, and these play a great part in their religious and social life. For this reason due importance is to be attached to their music, and a suitable place is to be given to it, not only in forming their attitude toward religion, but also in adapting worship to their native genius, as indicated in Art. 39 and 40. Therefore, when missionaries are being given training in music, every effort should be made to see that they become competent in promoting the traditional music of these peoples, both in schools and in sacred services, as far as may be practicable.
Note, America is not a mission land. You cannot take this to mean that whatever music is "indigenous" to America must be used. That's because in those mission lands, the indigenous music has deep religious significance, while in the West, the music of popular culture is secular in nature. Even where the lyrics are "spiritualized", the styles of folk and pop music still bring secular (or worse) images to mind.

Another key to the differences between realists and dreamers, Paragraph 120:

In the Latin Church the pipe organ is to be held in high esteem, for it is the traditional musical instrument which adds a wonderful splendor to the Church's ceremonies and powerfully lifts up man's mind to God and to higher things. But other instruments also may be admitted for use in divine worship, with the knowledge and consent of the competent territorial authority, as laid down in Art. 22, 52, 37, and 40. This may be done, however, only on condition that the instruments are suitable, or can be made suitable, for sacred use, accord with the dignity of the temple, and truly contribute to the edification of the faithful.
By reading this paragraph, even on the assumption that a multitude of instruments are permitted, which instrument is to be made the foundation of all liturgical music? Only a wilfully malevolent blindness can ignore the pipe organ. Even for those parishes which a true pipe organ is prohibitively expensive (which over the long term, should always be feasible, where the right intention is present), there is no reason why an electronic substitute cannot be used. However, even when keyboards are used, the self-discipline of the organist requires that the organ sound be that which is foundationally used. Too often organists develop their own style and palette of keyboard colors, where the organ sound is used only rarely, if at all.

And lastly, Paragraph 121:

Composers, filled with the Christian spirit, should feel that their vocation is to cultivate sacred music and increase its store of treasures. Let them produce compositions which have the qualities proper to genuine sacred music, not confining themselves to works which can be sung only by large choirs, but providing also for the needs of small choirs and for the active participation of the entire assembly of the faithful. The texts intended to be sung must always be in conformity with Catholic doctrine; indeed they should be drawn chiefly from Holy Scripture and from liturgical sources.
Again, we are talking about taking this mandate in the context of everything that has come before, where such compositions should be based on the Gregorian melodic forms and imbued with the same spirit. The intention, easily understood by the realist and confirmed by later documents, is that the Council wanted a vernacular chant to be developed that would be worthy of the name sacred. The dreamer, having left chant in the dust as outdated and useless, thus took up this challenge using whatever modern palette of music suited his fancy, and imposed a sacred quality onto it. In other words, because it is used in the parish, it becomes sacred.

11 Comments

Paragraph 118:

Religious singing by the people is to be intelligently fostered so that in devotions and sacred exercises, as also during liturgical services, the voices of the faithful may ring out according to the norms and requirements of the rubrics.

That is, singing the chant that has already been described.

Well, Mr. Rex, perhaps and perhaps not. The chant referred to in paragraph 116 has first place in liturgical use. Here in paragraph 118, I think that "religious singing" is primarily a reference to devotional music, the vernacular music found in, e.g., pre-1955 hymnals. For example, "Bring flowers of the fairest." Not liturgical, but effective for uniting everyone's prayers at a May crowning. Of course, there is nothing at all wrong with Latin ("Adeste fideles") or chant ("Flos carmeli") devotional hymns or songs, and if liturgical music influence devotional music, so much the better, the Church says. But popular songs are typically metrical and vernacular.

Note, America is not a mission land.

But it was, and it can be argued that parts of her rural (e.g., Indian reservations) and urban wilderness are today. Nevertheless, there are certainly few corners of the nation that MTV has not invaded, and it is certainly laughable to see middle-agers (hey!) pretending to play and sing "folk" "music" in pseudo-sophisticated suburban warehouses. This is something you would never hear on anyone's back porch or in anyone's cornfield. And popular American sacred music in English, such as Sacred Harp and spirituals, falls outside the Catholic tradition anyhow. (Am I being too granola-ey in excluding from folk music consideration the city dwellers who tolerated if not encouraged fake Irish melodies such as "Bring flowers of the fairest"?)

The intention, easily understood by the realist and confirmed by later documents, is that the Council wanted a vernacular chant to be developed that would be worthy of the name sacred.

Hmm. You may be getting a little ahead of the story with the word "vernacular." While certain prelates and periti may have had their own agendae, at this time there was no expressed expectation that the liturgy, and perhaps even less so liturgical music, be always and everywhere primarily in the vernacular. For instance, the previous reference to the chant books is only to the traditional Gradual plus a simple version of the same.

Daniel, OK, maybe it is a bit presumptive to impose that intent on the Council Fathers. But it is hard to deny that the thought developed to this point within a decade after the Council.

"The liturgical reform has opened up new perspectives for sacred music and for chant. One hopes for a new flowering of the art of religious music in our time. Since the vernacular is admitted to worship in every country it ought not to be denied the beauty and the power of expression of religious music and appropriate chant. At the same time, the liturgical reform does not and indeed cannot deny the past. Rather does it preserve and foster it with the greatest care." (Voluntati Obsequens, SCDW, 1974)

It seems to come across as a concession to appease the vernacular movement that was steamrolling everything in sight. Perhaps it was never intended to come to that. You are right. It certainly does not give the impression that Gregorian chant should be eliminated.

I, as well as the Congregation at that time, would like to see the vernacular chant as an alternative to the standard fare, in the hope that it would lead them to discover that which is richer. For all those who complain they cannot implement Gregorian chant, because it is too difficult, vernacular chant should be simple enough that no one can have any excuses.

By the way, I do not believe it's a matter of knowledge or talent, to be able to understand Gregorian chant well enough to implement. It's a matter of the will to do it. For myself, with nothing more than an old Liber, a few recordings, and an elementary understanding of the rudiments of music, I taught Gregorian chant largely to myself, in a matter of a few months. No, I am not an master of chant, but there is enough that I could easily join a schola and make a modest contributive effort. If I can do it, anyone can. Imagine what could be accomplished by those who have a formal training in music.

Dear Paul and Mr. Muller (and may I call you Daniel?):

May I suggest that the basic outline that Paul delineated in the above essay is basically correct. The gravamen of the remaining argument concerns what music the Council Fathers wished to have sung.

While I agree with Mr. Muller that they wanted more than just chant, I suggest that an answer in that direction can be found by an examination of Musicam Sacram, which I have done in my web journal. It would appear from MS that they had a hierarchy (no pun intended) in which plain chant was to be given pride of place, polyphony was to be preserved and cultivated, and finally, the music of the people was to be encouraged. In my reading, I surmised as well that when "pride of place" was stated, that it did not simply mean that it was to be preferred in liturgical gatherings, but that the esthetics of the music further down in the hierarchy was to be judged by the standards of chant (as recommended by Pope Pius in his writings on sacred music).

As one who is only two generations out of the reservation myself (Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma, on my mother's side), I would think applying the term mission land to the United States would be ludicrous, save that the last two generations of Catholic educators in the U.S. (pre- and post Vatican II) have been so poor in catachesis that the job might need to be begun again anew.

Finally, I suggest that while it might be unreasonable to assume in the Council Fathers and periti the desire for a vernacular chant, judging from the regrets that a fair number of them have expressed afterwards, it is likely that they would have favored such chant over the musical drivel which has been emitted in the name of Vatican II.

Paul and Bernard (You may call me whatever you like),

I did not at all disagree with the basic ideas of Paul as I understood them. I just wanted to point out the distinction between liturgical music, where chant reigns supreme, and devotional music, which preferably should be modelled on liturgical chant but generally is not. There is nothing so wrong with a campfire song ... around a campfire. Likewise, people such as Thomas Day are missing the mark when they criticize "pre-Vatican-II" devotional music vis-a-vis liturgical participation; it does not have the same purpose as liturgical music. On the other hand, as the Eucharist is source and summit of the Christian life, then it should influence all Christian devotions; cf. SC.

I did also want to point out the anachronism of reading directives for vernacular liturgy into SC. However, looking forward to Pope John Paul II's recent chirograph on sacred music, it is clear that worthy liturgical music, now quite specifically including vernacular music, must borrow some inspiration from chant, just as Pope St. Pius X claimed for the strictly Latin liturgy. This would be obvious to anyone familiar with chanted Mass and hours; unfortunately, there are not too too many anyones.

An aside: as an "organist," I find it painfully obvious how metrical hymns fit into the Mass just like square pegs (unfortunately, not like square notes!). I half expect the congregation to collectively get up for a beer from the fridge during the offertory and take a stretch and bathroom break during Communion (whoops! they do do that!) as it seems quite clear musically that it is a break from our regularly scheduled liturgy. This in a place where we follow the rubrics and have the commons and propers chanted. And I have the organ all planned down to keys, excerpted measures, and notes. I may even wobble into an improvisation when all else fails. It still does not fit. No one seems to notice, though; I suppose that they are all quite used to much worse. Maybe they are quietly trying to find "Amazing grace" in our hymnal while I am playing.

Theodore Marier (requiescat in pace) wrote quite a lot of vernacular chant. His was a voice crying out in the desert, or perhaps a tree falling in a forest with no one around. Maybe if the second edition of his book is published -- I am assured it is almost ready, but seeing is believing -- it will do better than the first. But only if people are open-minded: I remember a fellow commuter borrowing a hymnal from me on the train a few months ago. "Where's 'Amazing grace?' I've never seen a hymnal that didn't have 'Amazing grace' in it!" she exclaimed in complete innocence. I do not think that she was Catholic, but do you really think I would have necessarily gotten a different reaction from Mary Jo Catholic? So it will take some time to get parishioners and musicians -- and pastors -- used to this "weird" music.

Bernard,

Mission territory is a technical term, as I understand it. I have actually read of some people suggesting petitioning to have the United States revert to mission territory so as to enable reform of the Church here.

I suppose that if I was thinking of Navajo, I should have said Navajo. I am completely ignorant of evangelization of the Cherokee even though I have probably had casual interaction with them in the city.

Sorry! I edited my posting backwards. The first reference to "Amazing grace," which is of course not found in our parish hymnal, was meant to refer to the anecdote later in the posting, about not finding "Amazing grace" in the St. Pius X (if I recall correctly) Hymnal.

Daniel, we have a keyboardist at out parish. I can't even call her an organist, because she favors that silly Yamaha thing, while the Church organ sits draped with a cloth.

Anyway, why is it that she feels she needs to fill every spare moment with sound, rather than leave silence alone? If we need to have a Communion Hymn (personally, I commune more easily with Our Lord in silence), why does she feel that she needs to fill the air with a musical interlude during the time Father is preparing the ciboria and giving Communion to the choir, etc., just for the sake of noise?

And why does she feel she has to multiply verses, just so there is no dead space until Father is ready for the Prayer After Communion? It's almost as if we are trying deliberately to keep Our Lord out of people's hearts; for the minute the noise subsides, someone may have presence of mind enough to call Our Lord to dwell in his heart.

I find it impossible to concentrate on my After Communion prayers while these musical interludes are going on. I know, people will say the songs themselves are the prayers, but that is a copout. That time is between me and my Lord and no one should impose his view of how I should be spending those precious moments. After receiving Him into my body, I want to receive Him into my heart.

Paul,

Maybe we agree; it is hard to say without sharing your exact pain. Besides the fact that I am in control -- except when I descend to receive Communion, when the parish music director takes over.

One aim of appropriate music is to provide unity to the liturgy: extend the chant to cover the liturgical action. That is why it should match in key or mode and, in some way, style if not melody. I know of an organist who claims that the only liturgical organist is the improviser, and now that I have had some time to think about that, I agree. I am just a fake improviser most of the time; I use a lot of scores. Repertoire belongs after Mass, or possibly possibly before, in my opinion, but anyhow outside.

When you speak of "multiplying verses," I am not sure whether you mean repeating sung verses, which I find to be absurd and refuse to do at Mass either in the loft or in the nave, or whether you mean lousy improvisation, which I have to be a lot quicker to forgive.

I would like to point out that the Communion antiphon is supposed to begin as the priest receives Communion (2003 GIRM). I imagine that your keyboardist has never seen, tasted, or smelled a chanted Communion antiphon in her life, so she does what she knows and plays something or anything. And, bless her 1950's Low Mass tradition, a metrical vernacular hymn As Required. We chant the proper antiphon in English, I play a looong meditation, usually based on the following hymn, and then the music director plays the actual English hymn or introduces the Latin chant for the congregation after he and the schola return from Communion and I try to beat the tail end of the procession.

But you still might like to attend Mass at our parish. Our pastor insists on three minutes of absolute silence after Communion during which time he also kneels before the Blessed Sacrament. That is besides the perhaps one minute of silence (bells do not count as interruptions) during each elevation.

By the way, how much do you want for your organ as long as you are not going to use it? I am trying to get one at a reasonable price from across the country, but the shipping is as much as the organ! As soon as we do, the carpet, the electric pianothing (actually pretty nice for what it is; your keyboardist might be jealous), and my personal bane the Baldwin MCO Fun Machine with Leslie go right over the railing, in no particular order and at no particular velocity.

When the Communion hymn is finished, there should be silence. The keyboardist would instead play as many repeated instrumental verses (no improvisation) as required to fill air time until Father is ready. I'm saying, when you're done you're done. Give the people the opportunity to pray in peace.

By your description of Mass at your parish, I'm certain I would enjoy it, but it's too far to pop over. That also explains why it would not be much cheaper to purchase our organ. Besides, I'm hoping they'll keep it on mothballs until someone with more liturgical sense takes the musical helm. The sad thing is that the pastor would heartily welcome such a change.

It's that translation of "dum" in the GIRM.
Instead of the Communion Chant continus "while" the faithful receive communion (paraphrasing from memory, here,) it says the Communion chant continues "as long as" the faithful receive.
Many liturgists, mine among them, have ordained that the music MUST last for as long as the Communion "procession" lasts.
When I declined to do extended instrumental improv duirng Lent, the Liturgist wanted me to schedule multiple Communion hymns, lest some of the faithful have to receive with no background music. (Fortunately, our pastor made it clear that he thought that unnecessary.)
The liturgist also doesn't like it that sometimes the Agnus Dei is over before the priest and deacon have finished portioning out the sacred species into the various containers. When I said that thanks to the EMs gathering around the altar, there was no way I could possibly see how close they were to finishing that task, the same liturgist suggested that an EM at each mass could be appointed to follow the progress of the portioning, and when it was done give me the high sign.
Again, fortunately, Fr. K. put his foot down, and said there was nothing wrong with some silence.

Miss Geri,

I dunno. Personally, I thought it was universal where there was a real organist for him to improvise until exactly the closing of the tabernacle, after which extended tonic chord most people sat. Then a very short period of silence. That was my experience for years, except in the parish where we all stayed kneeling; I cannot recall that the organist (are you reading this, Mr. E.?) bothered with any music after the hymn. Similarly by exception, since the last thing we do musically during Communion in my present parish is sing a hymn, and since its beginning is mediated by my fear of missing Communion -- and I would need one of those enormous convex traffic mirrors to be able to see which of the back pews directly below the loft were empty -- and since our pastor usually tells us every Sunday to stay kneeling (until the prayer after Communion), we cannot really worry about that. If there is still a procession after the music director plays the hymn or finishes the congregational chant, we generally have a shrug match and play musical bench until it is too late to start anything anyway. Anything that may have occurred to me, anyhow; he is a big man!

Personally, I think that multiple Communion hymns -- especially on top of the Communion antiphon -- is as much overkill as resinging verses. Once is never enough?

You know that pouring into chalices after the consecration is now officially out, do you not? (Flagons 'R' Us has been forced to strategically realign itself in a new partnership with Good Seasons Italian ... Not yet available in southern California ...) I know, I know; you will keep that in mind when you are pastor ... I will, too!

Of course we cannot have instrumental music during Lent (except Laetare). You can be grateful to have a Father K. Too bad your view of him is obscured by emergency ministers, not by incense and crucifix and candlesticks -- or a roodscreen. Sorry, could not resist!

"You know that pouring into chalices after the consecration is now officially out, do you not?"

I know that the recent instruction from the Vatican would have it so, but I also know that the week it was promulgated our diocesan newspaper chose to publish an opinion from a canon lawyer that particular law in America DOES allow for use of the carafe/flagon/decanter, and that that trumps any old Vatican instruction.

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This page contains a single entry by Paul Rex published on June 8, 2004 7:00 AM.

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