Notes from the 2016 Notre Dame Symposium 6: Music - Connecting Experience

FR. ANTHONY RUFF "What does Church Music Have to do With My Life? Music and the New Evangelization"

The Problem

Young people think organized religion is not for good and that rituals of the church are meaningless. Inherited structure is meaningless. 

But his students are curious open and searching for meaning. They are often surprised that the rituals of the church can have meaning. It's news to them that liturgy is participation in salvation history.

Why is it a surprise that the rites are saving? Poor catechesis?

What happens in the Eucharistic prayer?  EVERYTHING

Christian Symbol and Ritual Bernard Cooke and Gary Macy starts with human experience... Very Rahnerian. He uses it to teach, because students today need that approach.

Five aspects of Ritual:

1. Hermeneutic of experience
2. Maturation
3. Presence
4. Service
5. Friendship

Rahner  Foundations of Christian Faith all experience is open to God

vs. Von Balthaasar Intentions A very Critical Intorduction (Kilby)  beauty aesthetic acknowledging the beauty of revelation

Rahnerian starting point is a better approach in the Church today rather than zealots with an attitude that church teaching is good and the world is evil

Book he uses is Patrick T McCormick, A Banqueter's Guide to the All-Night Soup Kitchen of the Kingdom of God.  Students don't see any of this as spirituality. No connection between social justice and spirituality. Spirituality, in reality,  is an entire world view.

MUSIC

How is it meaningful?

Does it relate to spirituality?

Does it relate to my life?

We need a realistic piety around texts we sing

Do the texts of the songs line up with our longings?

Or, are they epiphenomenological?  (Do the texts cause the longings?)  Or are the songs overly cut off from the real world?  Do we balance our faith and doubt?

We don't want to be pious in a sloppy way.  No need for a layer of lace and holy water 

Instead, we need to respect artistic ability and musical impulse. Do musicians have to be disciples? Sing to the Lord 39  says yes, but we should expect them to be human and not to be perfect.

The Appropriate use of Tradition

SC 112 we need a Thesaurus Musicae Sacrae 

Overly traditional impulse comes from a sense that what we have is  not working. It's not all bad... 

Idealization of chant and stylistic Euro-centrism ignore the culture people come from.

Some agendas  more chant, fewer hymns...

The reform of the reform starts with Musical tradition and points to the liturgy... Is backwards. We should start with liturgy and work toward musical tradition

Alcuin Clark T&T Clark Companion to Liturgy.   Critique 

nothing positive about congregational singing or participation

Musical traditionalism attempts to make music meaningful. Escapist. Misreading of hermeneutic of continuity

We can indeed have a preferential option for tradition in Vatican II 

We need a hybrid hermeneutic for interpreting SC chapter 6. 

Theological dynamic,culturally sensitive rite plus a solid musical tradition 

Music-Makiing as embodied Spirituality: 

Sacred Music divinizes us by humanizing us.

Great tradition of music making in the church as humanizing got subverted In The 18th and 19th century when we first had concerts.  "Concert culture"

Before 19th century most music making was without any written page 

CONCLUSIONS

We need:

• More comfort with our bodies and voices
• Greater relationality in our ensemble music- making -see Voice Care Network website
• Naturalness in proclamation of texts
• Comfort with rhythm and dance
• Relationality in engagement of assembly - cantor eye contact...
• Affirmation of musical professionalism - Greater musical skills enable us to be more human

Multicultural music  we need openness to all culture

NEXT NOTE: Preaching and the New Evangelization

"Late Have I Loved You" - Loving the God Who Loves Us

Music has a way of getting into my soul...  That's not particularly surprising, since according to the Called and Gifted process, one of my charisms is music. Anyhow, the song that keeps making me hit the repeat button on my iPod lately is this one from musician and blogger Sam Rocha, based on this famous passage from St. Augustine: "Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!"

It's been about a week since I purchased this song, from the album of the same name, which has been haunting my every waking moment. The question that came to me strongly a day or two ago was "Do I really love God?" Sure, I thought - intellectually speaking. That's not hard. But that answer did not seem good enough. I was gripped by Augustinian restlessness.

I was awakened very early this morning with a strong sense of that restlessness. Rolling around in my brain were lots of fragments, along with the refrain from "Late to Love." I struggled to recall what it was that had hit me as I led another song at Mass recently. Ah, "Servant Song" by McCargill - that old "chestnut!" The phrase "I am your song" had jumped out at me, along with the plaintive "Jesus, Jesus..."  Sure, I love Jesus, I thought. I have come to know and love him more deeply over the years - no problem. And for the past few years, I had come to a deeper love of the Holy Spirit, who fills me with song and inspires my writing.

But the Father. That's another thing entirely. But, I wondered, how could I say I love God, if I only have a formal, reverent respect and awe for one person of the Trinity - an intellectual assent to his authority and power? How does one move from the formal respectfulness of the public prayer of the Church to the Father to a lived sense of "Abba" - the Father who loves and is loved?

I won't go into the complicated history of my own stormy relationship with my father and father-figures in my life. It's messy. Affection, divorce, death, betrayal... yeah. Each person has a paternal relationship story of either presence or absence. Each of us has to navigate that and discover what it means to be loved by and to love the Father.

Botticelli: "St. Augustine in his Study"

The only answer to falling in love with an ineffable being is to see the face he showed us: Jesus. It's still a journey, but I feel like I'm getting closer to discovering the kind of love that Augustine found within the struggle to know God...

Urged to reflect upon myself, I entered under your guidance the innermost places of my being; but only because you had become my helper was I able to do so. I entered, then, and with the vision of my spirit, such as it was, I saw the incommutable light far above my spiritual ken and transcending my mind: not this common light which every carnal eye can see, nor any light of the same order; but greater, as though this common light were shining much more powerfully, far more brightly, and so extensively as to fill the universe. The light I saw was not the common light at all, but something different, utterly different, from all those things. Nor was it higher than my mind in the sense that oil floats on water or the sky is above the earth; it was exalted because this very light made me, and I was below it because by it I was made. Anyone who knows truth knows this light. 

O eternal Truth, true Love, and beloved Eternity, you are my God, and for you I sigh day and night. As I first began to know you, you lifted me up and showed me that, while that which I might see exists indeed, I was not yet capable of seeing it. Your rays beamed intensely on me, beating back my feeble gaze, and I trembled with love and dread. I knew myself to be far away from you in a region of unlikeness, and I seemed to hear your voice from on high: “I am the food of the mature: grow, then, and you shall eat me. You will not change me into yourself like bodily food; but you will be changed into me”.

Accordingly I looked for a way to gain the strength I needed to enjoy you, but I did not find it until I embraced the mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who is also God, supreme over all things and blessed for ever. He called out, proclaiming I am the Way and Truth and the Life, nor had I known him as the food which, though I was not yet strong enough to eat it, he had mingled with our flesh, for the Word became flesh so that your Wisdom, through whom you created all things, might become for us the milk adapted to our infancy.

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

Confessions of St. Augustine, Office of Readings for August 28, Feast of St. Augustine

There's a reason this song is haunting me. God is calling. Thank you, St. Augustine... and Sam Rocha for being "the bell that chimes."

The Gift of Song: A Cantor's Story

A pastor once asked me what I considered  my primary vocation from God. What did I feel I did best? I think he expected something different than what immediately came to my lips. I did not mention my work as a liturgist, or as a writer or educator. "When I am a cantor," I said, without hesitation. When he looked at me in surprise, I told him that when I am at Mass leading song and proclaiming the psalm, it feels completely right, as if I am doing what God always meant for me to do. Never any question for me.

For those of you who have not heard me, I have to say that if I had a nickel for every time someone told me I had the "voice of an angel" I would be a rich woman. I say this in humility - I try not to take any undue pride in my ability. It is the gift of the Spirit - and the fruit of intentional work and a particular set of circumstances that have allowed me to tap my full vocal potential. I am conscious that when one has such a gift, it comes with a heavy responsibility to give back to God. I have done so in every parish in which I have been a member as well as at diocesan liturgies in two dioceses.

Born appropriately on St. Cecila's day, from early childhood I have been blessed with the gift of music. I had a number of years of formal voice training and experience in church and community choirs since the age of nine. By the time I joined the Catholic Church at age 34, I knew I wanted to be part of the parish choir. Becoming a cantor was a next step. I was lucky to belong to a parish with an experienced music director, among cantors who were well-trained. In the years that followed, I attended the Archdiocese of Chicago cantor school and the NPM cantor school several times. I learned, from listening to and watching the late Michael Hays, a truly extraordinary cantor, to pray the psalm deeply, with dignity, feeling and sensitivity to the prayer of the assembly.

I thought perhaps I would help those who are not part of this ministry to understand what goes into my service as a cantor. Here is my story.

When learning a new song or psalm, I practice not only at church with the other cantors, but at home as well. I try to learn the words and music well enough that by the time I am in front of people I am at ease enough with the technical aspects that I can concentrate on what is important - the song or psalm as the prayer of the people. I also study the meaning of the text and make connections to moments in my life when I knew what i am singing to be true on a deep level. As a cantor, I know the psalms well. They are an important part of my prayer life and the familiarity means I always know what the text offers to me and to the assembly.

As every Mass begins, I take my place at the music stand, greet the assembly and invite them to join the entrance song. I smile, make lots of eye contact and try never to bury my face in the book. This is about making it easy for people to participate, so I pronounce words clearly, make obvious breaths before entrances, start consonants a little early and keep a firm speed and emphatic rhythm. Having occasionally been the victim of song-leaders who stop between lines of music, I try always to make it obvious when the people are to come in on the next line.

The Glory to God is an occasion for energy and joy. Smiling as I intone the introduction, I use my arms in an inviting gesture, and encourage everyone in the room to sing by making deliberate eye contact. My current music minister and I both prefer to keep this great hymn moving at a good steady pace, to accentuate that it is a song of joyful praise.

Before the psalm, I intentionally create a short silence after the first reader sits before taking my place. At the stand, I breathe deeply, center myself, putting myself into the "mood" of the psalm - joy if it is a psalm of praise, penitence if it is a penitential psalm, gratitude for God's mercy, remembering the times when I was the beneficiary of God's help, etc.  I make eye contact with the entire room during the instrumental intonation of the refrain and then intone the refrain with particular attention to making the text a prayer, using my best enunciation, (because there is nothing more frustrating when I am in the assembly as being unable to understand all the words of the refrain.) I then turn the refrain over to the assembly, letting them own it, as I back away from the microphone a bit.

During the verses, I pay particular attention to musical tools that emphasize the meaning of the text - getting softer or louder or adjusting the tempo as the prayer seems to require, empahsizing certain words or phrases. This is largely spontaneous, according to what is in my heart at that moment. The amount of adrenaline and deep involvement in the psalm always leaves me drained for a moment as I sit down. I have poured myself and my faith into leading the prayer of the assembly. It takes a deep breath and a moment to refocus to listen to the second reading.

I watch carefully for the first signs that the presider intends to stand, then walk briskly to the music stand for the Gospel Acclamation. My intonation is meant to set the mood of  expectation for the all-important proclamation of the Gospel. I attempt to launch the people into joyful song, smiling and encouraging them to sing as the Book of the Gospels is brought to the ambo. As I sit for the homily, I often realize that I am very tired. If I have not broken a sweat during the Liturgy of the Word, I have not done my job!

During the Eucharistic Prayer, I focus on the altar and the prayer, eliminating unnecessary movement, so as not to distract, providing firm leadership for the people's acclamations. The communion song is an opportunity to help people respond in gratitude for what they have received. Normally this is a slower, more lyrical song which invites me to slow down and express sincere thanks and a sense of the beauty of the blessing of the Eucharist. The expectation is that the people sing... and many do.

At the end of Mass, I lead the Assembly to go forth singing in joy to proclaim the Gospel in the world - keeping the tempo firm and using lots of eye contact to encourage people to stay and sing.

Normally, by the time I get home after serving as cantor/song-leader, I am pretty exhausted. I have poured my entire self and all my ability into my role without holding anything back. If I do not spend myself for Christ and for the sake of his people, what good is it to have a beautiful voice? The gift is given for a purpose. I find joy in that purpose - and an anchor for the very meaning of my life. When I am too old to do this well, I pray for the patience and wisdom to know how to step down gracefully and to accept that someday, this ministry will no longer be my call. Until then,


“How can I keep from singing Your praise?
How can I ever say enough, how amazing is Your love?
How can I keep from shouting Your name?
I know I am loved by the King and it makes my heart want to sing.”

(Chris Tomlin)

I Know My Redeemer Lives: Songs to Share with Kids for the Easter Season

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!  For the next 50 days, we are challenged to remain an Easter people - our hearts filled with joy, our gatherings full of celebration.

Catechists might want to make more conscious use of music during faith formation sessions to help set the tone of celebration.  Here are a few suggestions from several musical genres that might be somewhat inviting to children and teens:

And for a little humor:

: 

Happy Easter!

An End to Gloom and Darkness: Recovering the true meaning of the Exsultet

Tonight, I get to rehearse the Exsultet. (Big smile.)

As a cantor for the past 25 years, I have been privileged to take part in the great opening chant of the Saturday night Easter Vigil, the  Exsultet, or Easter Proclamation, sometimes as a choir member, sometimes as one of those who chant the verses of whatever arrangement that parish used. In the semi-darkness of a church lit only by the new Easter Candle and the pinpoints of light from the small candles held by each member of the assembly, this has always been my favorite moment of the entire liturgical year.

My first exposure to the Exsultet was in the late 80's through the much-beloved Everett Frese arrangement from OCP, now out of print, which began with a pedal point on the organ's lowest pipe that rumbled and shook the dark room as the light of the Easter Candle was shared with the people's candles. It then moved, after the candle was set in its socket, into a glorious and dramatic chant for two cantors punctuated by choir and assembly. The mystery and majesty of the Exsultet in the years I spent in the parish where we used that setting is still something that lives on in my memory. In later years, I encountered the unembellished chant version sung by either cantor or deacon right out of the Sacramentary. Not as dramatic, to be sure, but still wonderful.

During the past few years my current parish has begun using a bilingual version by Pedro Rubalcava,  also from OCP, with our pastor chanting the Spanish verses and me taking the English ones. The challenge, of course, when we go back and forth, is that the people 'lose" half of the text on both sides of the language "divide." Ideally, I suppose, we should do the whole thing in both languages, as we do the Easter Gospel, but length pretty much prevents that. Still, this represents an attempt to honor both cultures, and the text can be read in the missalette . It is the proclamation itself that is the point - and the soaring refrain for the people emphasizes the importance of the moment: "This is the night, this is the night, this is the night! Esta es la noche, esta es la noche, esta es la noche!" 

As we begin to use the new Roman Missal translation, however, I am conscious that we in the English speaking world had been "robbed" for 40 years of part of the meaning and purpose of the Exsultet. It is not, as it formerly appeared, only a proclamation of the Resurrection, so much as it is a hymn of praise to the Light of Christ and the candle that bears it.

Contrast the old opening to the current section in the new Roman Missal and you see the difference.

Old:  

Rejoice, heavenly powers! Sing choirs of angels!  Exult, all creation around God’s throne! Jesus Christ, our King is risen! Sound the trumpet of salvation! Rejoice, O earth, in shining splendor, radiant in the brightness of your King! Christ has conquered! Glory fills you! Darkness vanishes for ever!

 New:

Exult, let them exult, the hosts of heaven, exult, let Angel ministers of God exult, let the trumpet of salvation sound aloud our mighty King’s triumph! Be glad, let earth be glad, as glory floods her, ablaze with light from her eternal King, let all corners of the earth be glad, knowing an end to gloom and darkness.

(You can see a side-by-side comparison of the full texts, along with the Latin original here.)

Notice that the opening of the new version does not use the words "Jesus Christ... has risen" specifically, but merely references his "triumph." And throughout, the emphasis is now on the Easter Candle itself, the work of the bees (always present in the Spanish translation). This entire section was left out of the former translation, leaving us with an imperfect understanding of the true purpose of the chant:

Father, accept this candle, a solemn offering, the work of bees and of your servants’ hands, an evening sacrifice of praise, this gift from your most holy Church.But now we know the praises of this pillar, which glowing fire ignites for God’s honor, a fire into many flames divided, yet never dimmed by sharing of its light, for it is fed by melting wax, drawn out by mother bees to build a torch so precious.O truly blessed night, when things of heaven are wed to those of earth, and divine to the human.

Much has been made, among liturgical experts, of the "return of the bees." In this key passage, we see the definition of the Easter Candle (and our divided flames on the assembly's candles) as our earthly offering of praise to God the Father, joined to the glory of the light of Christ. This understanding makes even clearer the opening blessing of the candle, during which grains of incense are embedded along with the description of Christ as Alpha and Omega.

As we begin the procession into the church, the presider says: "May the light of Christ, rising in glory, dispel the darkness of our hearts and minds."  Now,  with the meaning of the Exsultet restored,  that makes more sense. It is the risen light which is emphasized here - and by implication, the person of Christ. The chant that follows is in praise of that light.

So yes, the Exsultet is a great paean to the Risen Christ, but in the form of the return of his light, out of the darkness of the grave - not so much directly to his person. It is our offering of the Easter Candle to the Father, returning the work of the bees to its author and Creator, symbolizing that the Resurrection takes place among us each year at the lighting of the new fire.

And now we know.

Preparing for the Year of Faith - Music

(Apologies for the long hiatus on this blog - busiest few months ever - and the hottest summer in years...and... and... OK, I will spare you the "Litany of Excuses.")

Have to share the song our parish is preparing for the Year of Faith, because it is simply so perfect. We are practicing Ricky Manalo's "We Are Sent Into the World" (published by OCP)  Here is the refrain:

...and a recording of parish rendition in which you can pretty much understand all of the words. Once you hear it you will know why it is a near-perfect expression of the hope, postivity and sense of mission that underlies the Year of Faith:

As parishes around the country gear up for the Year of Faith, may we all resolve to become better followers, disciples and ambassadors of Christ, knowing we are chosen by God for this mission to share the story of our faith.

Getting More Out of the Mass - Part 5: Praying the Responsorial Psalm

In the fifth part of this series, I would like to expand comments I shared recently at our parish Roman Missal sessions. This is another piece about the particular points of "internal participation" by the Assembly. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)


During the Liturgy of the Word, there are two particular places for musical participation by the people.  The first of these is the Responsorial Psalm. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal says: "After the First Reading follows the Responsorial Psalm, which is an integral part of the Liturgy of the Word and which has great liturgical and pastoral importance, since it fosters meditation on the Word of God." (61)


The key word there is "meditation" - which clearly implies an engaged inner engagement with the text during the Psalm. This is not passive listening, or simple enjoyment of a song and joining in a refrain.

The cantor here takes on a specialized role:  "It is the psalmist’s place to sing the Psalm or other biblical canticle to be found between the readings. To carry out this function correctly, it is necessary for the psalmist to be accomplished in the art of singing Psalms and have a facility in public speaking and elocution." (G.I.R.M. 102)  Notice the role implies the ability to proclaim Scripture well - this goes beyond merely being a good singer, because the Psalm is more than a mere song. Ideally, the cantor will not just sing the Psalm, but pray it as well - sincerely interacting with the text, connecting spiritually to the words and how they have impacted his/her own life in the past, and impact it in the present moment. 


As a cantor/psalmist myself for almost 24 years, I have often been encouraged to make the Psalter my prayer book - to have a living relationship to the words I sing and proclaim and to make the Responsorial Psalm a moment of genuine prayer. There is no substitute for that. The authenticity of the cantor's prayer life should be transparent during the Psalm.  Therefore, the act of singing is secondary to the expression of the meaning of the text, which should come from the depths of the heart, without being so overly dramatic as to be distracting to the Assembly. 


Much of this expression can be accomplished through eye contact with the Assembly, the sincerity of the facial expression and the dynamics (level of loudness/softness) as the Psalm is proclaimed. Ideally, the cantor should sing a joyful psalm of praise with conviction and joy, or a psalm of contrition with a genuine sense of his/her own sinfulness and unworthiness.  It does not matter if the musical form is chant or through-composed. The inner engagement of the singer should be transparent.  The Psalm is not merely an expressionless chant. It is not merely a pretty song. It is never a performance.  Instead, it is a moment when the proclamation of the Scriptural text is incarnated - brought to life through the authenticity of the cantor.


Certainly, it helps if the cantor has the musical ability needed to make the singing of the psalm "beautiful," but knowing the music and being able to sing well is secondary to the ability to proclaim the text. The ability to make the music simply a vehicle for the prayer is what every cantor should strive for in his/her ministry.  When this is done well, the Psalm becomes a genuine dialog of prayer between the people and the cantor.  During the Responsorial Psalm, the cantor/psalmist is - like the priest in the rest of the Mass - the leader of prayer. While the cantor is the collective voice of the people as individual private human beings, each living their relationship with God along with all the emotions and situations described in the psalms, the priest is in his role leader of the voice of the Mystical Body of Christ, the gathered Assembly, raising the public prayer of the Church to the Father.


What is the role of the people during the Psalm? To listen and actively meditate on the words of the verses and to make both the verses they hear and antiphon they sing their own personal prayer - to "own" the Psalm as the voice of something in their own human experience.


Next: the Gospel Acclamation.