I recently went to Mass at a parish (not in Alabama) and had an experience that brought some of my usual areas of focus into…sharper focus.
It was a large, growing, vibrant (as we say) parish. A strong counter-example to the claim that Oh, you know Novus Ordo parishes are shrinking, the only growing parishes are those that celebrate the TLM! Which anyone with any experience outside of their own bubble knows is not true anyway.
Mass was in a temporary space – I assume a permanent church building is coming at some point, and held several hundred people. The priest celebrant was young and his approach more than hinted at a formation that emphasized respect for the liturgy as a given and not imposing one’s personality or preferences upon it – and the congregation. He was dignified and reserved, but not cold, he chanted. He prayed the Roman Canon.
But then…the music.
It was jarring, both stylistically and on a deeper level, which is the point of this post.
I’m not here to ding on contemporary liturgical musicians, who are mostly well-intentioned people of faith who are giving of themselves, formed in particular style and approach that is presented to them as a given. As optimal, even. Looking to begin the Mass, what else would one do but sing You are Welcome Here ? Well?
Here’s what struck me during and after this Mass, in a way that I’d never really thought about before. I thought about how the experience and understanding of faith is potentially affected by the replacement of the deep tradition of Catholic sacred music with contemporary material.
It’s not about “reverence” as it is about an experience of faith that reflects, not the deep Tradition that is expressed in Catholic sacred music, but the ideas of some guy who happen to write a piece that some company liked, bought and then sold this parish the rights to sing.
I’ve had this experience in other contexts: a context, for example, in which Catholics have gathered for a serious purpose and the prayer binding and forming us is coming out of the “heart” of the leader – who of course is going on – and I’m sitting there thinking, why does the movement of the Spirit or whatever in this guy’s heart the framework for our experience here – why can’t we just pray the Liturgy of the Hours?
As I have written before, it is one more expression of the determination to see the Church’s deep tradition as a barrier, not a door or window. As an example of the conviction that our call is to express the unique Spirit in the present moment in our unique community – which almost always ends up being the expressions designed and controlled by a few. A liturgy that “reflects the local community,” for example is going to be little more than a liturgy that really “reflects the tastes of the people in charge.”
By which the rest of us then, are imprisoned. Personally, I’d rather have my liturgical formation consistently shaped by that deep, sprawling thing called Tradition than by that guy over there.
That is not to say that what we have in the tradition of Catholic sacred music was sent to us by God, unmediated by human uniqueness or historical contingencies. Of course it was. But over centuries, all of that was shaped and honed and directed – and pruned when necessary – to communicate the faith in powerful and beautiful ways.
Again, this is not to cast shade on anyone’s intentions – from the songwriters to the musicians. It’s also not to suggest that people in the pews don’t like this – they seem to, and for sure would rebel at a change. It’s not to say that P & W music doesn’t have a place in the Catholic musical universe. It does.
(I guess.)
But simply to say, that as I sat there and considered, for example, all the children in the congregation – as well as the rest of us who are always and ever in formation, no matter how old we are – I thought – what a shame. Not because there’s some ideal of “Catholic sacred music” that’s not being heard or “Catholic identity” – but because of what is communicated through that tradition of Catholic sacred music – both the faith-related content itself and the experience of continuity with the Body of Christ through time and space – is just missing here. Hidden. Denied, even, replaced by…what?
Again. What a shame.
This reminds me of when, decades ago, a friend brought me to a charismatic prayer meeting. She said something about how it would be impossible not to “feel the Spirit” there. And I certainly felt something, but it led me to reflect on what we mean by the Holy Spirit. Isn’t He a real person? Does His presence necessarily communicate itself to us by means of our emotions? Don’t our emotions often become stirred in situations where the Holy Spirit never would be the source?
It really brought home to me the reasoning behind the “objective” nature of the Church’s liturgy (Guardini’s “Spirit of the Liturgy” is really helpful on this point). The Holy Spirit gave us means by which to be sure He is present. So having the tried and true, rather than the novel and spontaneous, will always be more likely to convey the mind of the Church and therefore the guidance of the Holy Spirit. I think this obtains even in ancillary matters, such as hymns sung at Mass — which in itself is a novelty introduced at the Reformation — and opening/closing prayers led by lay people, God bless them.
P and W music does not belong at Mass. Its character is opposite that of music at Mass. Its piety music, no more or less.
I have decades of experience with praise and worship music, both at Mass and in “praise and worship” gatherings (many using the “Steubenville format” for praise and worship leading to adoration and benediction). I used to really value this music at Mass, now I don’t. However, I have been to “charismatic” Mass where this music was used and the Mass was reverent and worshipful and beautiful. That’s a special niche, though. In general, I think that praise and worship music at Mass is jarring and disruptive to the flow of the liturgy, as Amy notes in this article, because the congregation is not Charismatic. Sadly there are many, many variations in the N.O. liturgy and the conglomeration of Praise and Worship music with other elements of the liturgy is like most conglomerations–clunky, not integrated, not very beautiful. Nowadays I prefer N.O. Masses that are done by the book (what, there’s a book?) which have Antiphons instead of hymns.
I don’t have any issue with Marty Haugen or Michael Haas’ music (obviously the man himself is more problematic to say the least). It’s just that their music is fine at best and their influence (given how often their music is played) is wildly disproportionate to their talent level. I’m not unhappy those guys are getting their royalties but it’s insane that the music of the entire Catholic Church in America is so heavily influenced by the folks GIA decided to hire. It’s like if Suits wasn’t just a passing fad but became the measure of American cinema
A psychology professor years ago mentioned this story: A mother put some terrible tasting stuff on her young daughter’s thumb to keep the little one from sucking it. After a while, the child asked her mother, “Can you put some of that bad-tasting stuff on my thumb again.” People can get used to junk and even want it.
Well, that song could be sung congregationally without accompaniment and probably be the better for it. That’s not typically true of a lot of contemporary worship music found in Catholic churches.