Coyote chews more music . . .

I've been holding off on writing thise post because I wanted to make sure I had an accurate understanding of the situation before I publically went off the hook and started tearing into all manner of musical ranting. You know, there's nothing quite like going on a full-fledged rant only to find out you misread the announcement and boy, don't you feel like a schmuck?

But, sadly, this time, I had the right of it from the beginning. . .

Where to start? Well, I guess I should say that I'm a cantor at my church sometimes. I'm usually up singing with the choir but, when they need someone to fill in as cantor, I go down and cantor for that Mass. Since our usual cantor has been having various health problems these past few months, he asked me to fill on on the 9th and 23rd of September. At the time I was asked, I said "Yeah, sure, no problem."

The very next rehearsal, the conductor (reluctantly, I should add-- the man has taste, and this is not his fault) passed out little pieces of paper that looked like this:







And we were informed that we had to learn it, as pretty soon we'd be singing it before Mass, every Mass-- information which immediately made me want to start lighting little fires with little pieces of paper. In the bulletin, with the music is included this little bit: "All classes and groups in the parish are encouraged to use the refrain as an opening or closing prayer."

I'm gonna skip over how craptacular that melody is (I've sung campfire songs that had more moving, or uplifting, or . . . musical melodies) and go straight to my main problem, which is the lyrics. In case the picture is too small, the lyrics are:

We are the Church, the Body of Christ
We are the Church, a people Redeemed
We are the Church, anointed to serve
God's holy people, the people of God.

Now, I will grant, that in a different context, I would have less problem with these words. In an inspirational book, or (written more eloquently) in an encyclical of some sort, or something about the Cathecism. Basically, they'd be okay as part of a writing addressed to the Church at large. Well, mostly okay. I do have a problem with this verse however, even in such a context, and it is this: Who, exactly, is "God's holy people, the people of God"? In the context of the verse, we must assume that "people of God" would be the "people redeemed", which would be . . . As, yes, We. Us.

Talk about "self-serving." This verse is, basically, about how darned good we are, how frickin' fantabulous We, the Church, are. We're soooo great, we sing songs to ourselves about our amazing, fabulous greatness!

And moreover, we're singing this in church, where we should be completely focused on Him--not us. And when, exactly, are we singing this? Before the processional. To wit, in the cantor book this past Sunday, there was a sheet which I was supposed to follow (I did not, as I shall explain in a bit), in which I, the cantor was to welcome the people to the church (uh, okay, no biggie), then say something along the lines of "Let us greet one another with song--" (Erk?!) and then I was supposed to lead everyone in singing that thing, and then read reflection on the readings, and then a moment of silence for meditation or something, and only then invite people to stand and join in our processional . . .



They're trying to turn mass into friggin Sesame Street, and I won't stand for it. Now look, I love Big Bird, Oscar and Snuffleuphagus, this is not a knock on Sesame Street. But Sesame Street has it's place (public TV), and is not appropriate for a mass. But you know what, it's even worse than that, because the Sesame Street comparison comes from the idea of greeting each other with a song, but this particular song?



How did that email exchange with the conductor go? Oh yes, Dad mentioned something to the conductor like:

Also, you should know that C, who is scheduled to cantor Sunday, absolutely will NOT lead the congregation in "We are the Church." . . . C would love to cantor the rest, but that piece just triggers an aesthetic and spiritual gag reflex. If that is going to cause a problem, you may want to switch cantors.

I had nothing to do with her decision, but I definitely have the same reaction. This should be retitled "Hymn to Self-Absorbed Baby Boomers." I do not come to church to celebrate myself.

I, thinking I ought to say something for myself, then wrote to the conductor, saying:

Dad has it right. I'm perfectly okay and willing to do everything else (including the annoying little speech before the beginning of Mass), but my tolerance for self-worship runs out right here. If asked about my refusal, you can tell whoever that I say "There's something obscene about communal musical masturbation, and I refuse to have any part of it anywhere, much less in a church where we're supposed to be worshipping God, not ourselves."

Yes, I feel pretty strongly about this. I don't really consider myself very conservative when it comes to religious matters, but that doesn't mean I don't take my faith seriously. This . . . drivel is insulting enough as a "song", without the lyrics. Kum-ba-yah is literally more sacred, since it's at least supposed to be a sorta-prayer.

Hell, I know Linkin Park and Korn lyrics that are more reverent.

And that's saying something. [Especially when it's a soprano complaining about something being too self-centered. I mean, really. . . ]

I think that sums up my feelings on the matter pretty well. The pastor also knows my issues with the song since at one point I said to Kat, quite loudly in his hearing, that I would rather shove knitting needles through my eyes than lead the congregation in this . . . thing. This is not a prayer, nor a hymn. Prayers are addressed to God, hymns are either addressed to God or are primarily about God. This little ditty is about Us, We, and how marvelous we are.


Look, I know Pride. I'm a trained soprano (and a one-time fencer)-- pride is my middle name. I know narcissism when I see it, and this thing reeks of it. This is about as far from Humility as it gets, and to be honest, everytime I look at the music for this I hear chuckling from deep beneath my feet. Yes, Somebody Else knows these lyrics very well . . .

I was lucky this past Sunday that certain minders were not around and the organist, well aware of my intense dislike for the song, let me skip it. But if it is decided that this will be enforced, they'll have one less cantor on the roster.




Gah! Let's cleanse our mental palate with something truly Good and Sacred. Mmmm, Mozart!

PS: Here's Kat's take on the whole mess.

PPS: An article on Church Music for those interested.

Mother Theresa

I have been remiss in not posting anything in recognition of the tenth anniversary of Bl. Mother Theresa's passing. I suppose there are numerous "reasons" I could give, but those aside, here I am.

I was privileged to sing in a church choir that sang for her and her sisters three times before she died. It was in the mid-to late '90's, and I'll never forget a single time. . .

You see, it all started because William Lori was ordained a bishop. At one time, he had been a priest at my church, and he requested that our choir sing at his ordination. During that occasion, one of the local sisters heard us, and approached our conductor about singing for a final profession of vows that was coming up.

So, several months later, we were back in the Shrine, singing for Mother Theresa. Which would have been awesome enough. . .

A year or two later, another final profession, this time at St. Aloysius (or rather, St. Al's to us Washingtonians), which is attached to Gonzaga High School (yes, if you're asking, a Jesuit school). Another fine moment.

The last time we sang for her, she came to our parish, St. John the Baptist, and as with the previous occasions, it was such a big to-do, but a joyous one. And I remember that when she would speak, it was with such spirit, unafraid of who she was speaking to, never fearing to be, as they say, "Politically incorrect."

No, I did not join the crowds that gathered around her. I'm a natural born introvert, a bit of a coward, and besides, I felt that it would be rather rude to just present myself with nothing to say for myself. "Hi, I'm CC, wanna bless me?" just seemed so. . .crass, in a way. On the other hand, even then I would tell myself "How often does this happen? How many chances are you gonna get to meet a walking saint?" But then I'd say to myself (the introvert coming out) "The last thing that over-worked woman needs is one more person crowding in her face demanding her attention. It is enough to be part of giving her a song."

So I would stay up in the choir loft, kinda wishing I was down with the crowds, and relieved that I was not.

I did, however, have a friend who got some Miraculous Medals blessed by her, and one of those now hangs around my neck.

There's really nothing that I can say about her that hasn't been said a thousand times already by people far more eloquent and erudite than I. She was a good, saintly, and ultimately human woman, a rock tossed by God into the pool of the world, whose ripples haven't stopped yet, and don't look to be stopping anytime soon. Her life was, to use a cliche, a gift that keeps on giving. I think we are only beginning to realize the depths of this strong, dedicated servant of Christ.

I suppose the best way to end this post is to point you to this video on Deacon Kandra's site. Mother Theresa, set to one of my favorite U2 songs-- "Grace".

More Music

Related to the discussion we had the other day, yesterday the Anchoress linked to this post from the beginning of July, about a song called "Jesus was a Cool Dude". This gentle woman says

"95% of all “praise music” and 98% of all Catholic “hymns” written since
1972 are just shudder-inducing. Most of what is played at mass these days serves
as useful penance and not much else."

My, my, Anchoress, tell us what you really think. . .

+ + +

Because I'm a music nerd, I was looking on YouTube for the Alleluia from the Missa Papae Marcelli, but, alas, no one's done anything with that yet. But, I did find something from someone who is possibly more of a music nerd than I and, feeling generous, I thought I'd share. Here we have a short film on the life of Palestrina, with effective use of his music and others, including that of Star Wars, Superman, and. . . yes, that's Eminem you heard. . .

Behold the Geekdom:



Don't you feel nerdier already? ~_^

PS: And, from Amy welborn, related thoughts and links.

To Begin: Music and Church

I'm starting with an unanswered question from another blog, and I chose this one because I got my degree in Vocal Music Education:

"A hymn is the praise of God with song; a song is the exultation of the mind dwelling on eternal things, bursting forth in the voice."
-Thomas Aquinas

Just wondering- are hymns thought of as a form of prayer? On the similar note, why does the church seem to frown on modern music in the church. If it's all about worship, why isn't this form also considered sacred? There definately is something about hearing the traditional hymns with which we all grew-up, but I also appreciate the more contemporary musical liturgy as at our Sunday evening service.

This is an older debate than many people realize. Legend has it that back during the Council of Trent, the church fathers were debating whether or not polyphony should be allowed in churches, or if the only music to be allowed would be chant. In defense of polyphony, the composer Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina penned the Missa Papae Marcelli (Pope Marcellus Mass), and thereby so impressed the bishops and Pope that they allowed polyphony to remain. [More recent scholarship suggests that the Missa was actually composed 10 years earlier, but it's still a great story!]

To answer the question, though, there are several points to be made/ discussed.

First, it must be understood that music is essentially an amplifier of sentiment and or idea, and as such, can actually be quite powerful--> and therefore, quite dangerous. The best of music can stir our soul and transport us to the heavens. The worst can leave us drowning in the rotting muck of hell. And, naturally then, it can leave us every place in between. Just because the lyrics might be about God doesn't mean it should be in a Church.

Second, some people have problems with a lot of the more contemporary lyrics. Several years ago there was a trend to have the congregation singing about God in the first person, which is not exactly humble. Likewise, a lot of the songs are not actually about God, but about how great we are as a community--Go Us! The focus in a lot of contemporary "hymns" is not God, it is I, we, us, when it ought to be God, or at least people in heaven, like Mary. Singing in praise of Us! is, well, weird at best.

Third, not all "sacred music", strangely enough, is meant for a mass setting. Verdi's Requiem Mass was intended as a concert piece, not to be such as an actual mass. It's too big, too hardcore for an actual mass, and Verdi knew it, maybe even made it so on purpose.

This third point is a very important one: Some music is better in a concert setting, even if it's got religious lyrics. A lot of contemporary "praise music" falls into this category, I think. It's great to listen to in the car, or to go to a concert to hear and sing along with. For instance, I'm a huge U2 fan, and they did a rendition of Psalm 40 called (du-uh) "40." It's a lovely little piece, but I don't think it should ever be used as the Psalm for Mass, no matter how well written. Not because of who wrote it, but because it does not lend itself toward communal singing, such as a psalm for Mass should.

And here is another important point-- music to be used in a Mass needs to balance between two sometimes opposing requirements: First, to inspire and move our spirits and hearts toward heaven and second, to be singable. To be singable for the average person means that one cannot be too complicated in terms of melodies, chords or rhythms (this rhythmic requirement knocks out most contemporary music). However, simplify too much and you get schmaltz and saccharin-sweet lullabies.

My church choir has actually found a way to maintain this balance effectively-- some things are congregational, some are just for the choir. Usually, it is divided as such:

Prelude--Choir
Processional-Congregation
All mass parts--Congregation
Offertory--Choir
Communion--Congregation
Communion Meditation--Choir
Recessional--Congregation
Postlude--Choir

This way, the congregation as a whole gets in a good bit of singing, and the more advanced music is still incorporated by the choir (And we sing a lot of the more classical pieces, which satisfies us music buffs.)

Now, to be sure that I've answered the questions:

are hymns thought of as a form of prayer?
Yes. In fact, to qualify as a hymn, I would think it would need to fulfill the requirements of prayer. Which would be: an address or meditation from us toward God. Therefore, something that went along the lines of "We are awesome! We are amazingly cool! How wonderful are we!" is not a hymn, because it is not a prayer. However, if it does fulfill the requirements for prayer, then yes, it most certainly counts as prayer.

why does the church seem to frown on modern music in the church?
It's not that the church frowns on modern music as such-- it's that the church frowns on bad music, and unfortunately, a lot of modern church music falls into this category. From songs with unrealistic ranges, to painfully awkward rhythms, or insulting lyrics . . . a lot of modern "church" music falls into un-singable. I didn't realize how hard it was to sing a lot of this until I began to cantor, and I've found that about 75% of what I have to lead has ranges that challenge even my trained voice, going from chest voice to mid-voice to head voice all in one verse!

[Now granted, one of my favorite "modern" songs is guilty of this very thing. I have a secret love of "On Eagle's Wings." To be honest, it's nearly impossible to cantor. Starts off a bit high for a congregation-- the "You who dwell in the shadow of the Lord" always sounds reedy-- and then the refrain dips way too low for a congregation-- "And he shall raise you up. . ." always makes me sound like a teen-aged boy trying to ask out a crush. It's simply not well written for congregations-- but like cheap chocolate, I just can't get enough.]

If it's all about worship, why isn't this form also considered sacred?
Look, I've been known to be able to pick out deep theological and philosophical meanings from episodes of DragonBall Z --> but that doesn't mean that I should write a hagiography of Vegeta, Prince of Saiya-jins (much though this nerd is tempted). For something to be sacred, it's not enough to be about God. U2's "40" is about God, but I wouldn't consider it sacred, fangirl though I am. Likewise, not everything that transports one person will work on most people. I might be moved by the music of Evanescence, Flyleaf, or Thousand Foot Krutch. . . (2 out of 3 are considered "Christian Rock"), but that does not make it sacred. There are many people that hear the strumming of guitars and are not inspired toward God, but rather toward the destruction of the instruments.

I think, to be sacred, it must inspire most listeners, most of the time. This is why most people consider the works by John Rutter to be sacred, while the work of Bono and The Edge, eh, not so much.

Also, worship is necessarily all about God. Therefore, sacred music is never about us. Lyrics matter.

Now, this does not mean that there is no good, modern, sacred music. I think there's just as much as ever-- I believe, however, that there's proportionately more not-so-good, and so the good stuff tends to get lost or drowned out. There's a lot of good music being written for choirs (Martin Lauridsen's "O Magnum Mysterium" still gives me goosebumps after several years of singing it), and there are some things being written in other styles that are excellent as well--from a jazz Mass I heard performed by a jazz band and singing ensemble in New Orleans, to a lot of the arrangements of spirituals that are becoming standards. But, the problem is, most of this is being written for musicians, people who can take the time to rehearse and learn things a little more complicated and interesting. Unfortunately, it is very difficult to write for congregations well, and so very difficult to find. The "classics" became such because they withstood the test of time. We can't come up with an entire year's worth of classics in the space of half a century--so if we want modern (as in, post-Vatican II) music, we're stuck with music still in the testing process.


In the end, friend, it comes down to not simply your taste and abilities, but the taste of the majority and the abilities of the average. This means then, that the appropriateness of a song may vary from place to place. Folk hymns from one part of the world don't always translate well into other cultures. But, sometimes they do. So, a lot of what decides the use of a certain song should be the abilities of the congregation. Most people can get "Siyahumba". "Betelehemu", on the other hand, probably not. But when taken over the average of the Catholic Church across the whole world-- I think the "oldies" are the easiest to sing well.


Well, that's what I think, anyway. I hope I've answered the question, and I invite discussion and differences of opinion, of course. ^_^