Friday Thoughts - Tenebrae and Liturgical Music

Last night I participated in a Tenebrae service here at the seminary, which you can find here. Tenebrae was originally a part of the Divine Office for Holy Week previous to the liturgical changes called for by Vatican II and promulgated by Pope Paul VI. There is still some retention in the Liturgy of the Hours we now use, but it became the practice of some parishes and monasteries to retain the older form as a preparation for the final days of the life of Christ which we celebrate liturgically on Holy Thursday and Good Friday. The basic format is: there are three nocturns followed by an silent Our Father, a closing prayer, and the strepitus, which if you watched in the video, is the loud noise at the very end. The strepitus symbolizes the earthquake at Jesus' death. Each of the nocturns follows the story from garden of Gethsemane to Calvary, the pinnacle being the strepitus. Within each nocturn, there are three parts: a psalm, a reading, and response. As the liturgy moves on candles are extinguished from a large candelabra called a hearse.

The Schola Cantorum here at the seminary prepared pieces for the musical responses that are at the end each of the three nocturns. We tackled very difficult pieces. Believe you me, chanting with twenty men together at once, and sounding good, is very difficult. Trying to create one voice from twenty is a monumental task for amateurs like ourselves.

After the service, I was struck again by how moving it is. It proved to me that there are certain types, yes, types of music, specially suited for the liturgy. Yes, the church documents tell us Gregorian chant is the greatest form of liturgical music and is the scale by which all other liturgical music is compared, polyphony being the second loved but still very supported child. These forms of music conform themselves to the other-worldliness of the liturgy. They are intended for no other purpose and do not resemble any other form of non-liturgical music (unless those non-liturgical musics become derivative sub-genres of popular music that resemble the forms of chant and sacred polyphony). The allign the mind and the body toward that which is beyond complete intellection and sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell. They are means by which the soul can encounter the divine. Through the creations of His creations, the Creator reveals Himself to His most beloved creatures.

If you didn't before, click the link above and soak in some of the glory of God communicated through music. Be moved to sorrow for the sorrows of Christ in the garden. Be moved to hope by the small glimmer in Christ's eye walking up to Calvary. Shudder in disgust and fear (the good kind) standing at the foot of the cross of the Savior of the world; and hear the loudness of the earthquake that shook the earth, the very cosmos commiserating with the death of Jesus Christ.

The Evangelization of Masculinity and Femininity through Music

I began writing this post on the evening of February 2nd before going to a basketball game. That basketball game had great effect on my life. See this post, this one, this one, and this one for details, if you haven't been following along. Anyway, I finally want to try and finish the post because the insight I feel is very important.

I had the opportunity last night (last month now, but for my own emotional posterity, I will let the misinformation stand, I apologize for being overly attached) to go to my first Matt Maher concert, yes, first. I have been present when he has led worship and led music for the liturgy, but as for a concert this was a first. It was a great blessing. It took on a different form from the usual concert feeling. The opening act, Audrey Assad, played in the middle of Matt's set. A bit different indeed but it brought out something for me that was really poignant that evening.

Through Audrey's music and Matt's music came forth the natural complementarity of sexes. Matt and Audrey are obviously very good friends who have a relationship that spans way past music and is rooted in the heart of Jesus Christ. They've played music together for many years, and that chemistry is immediately apparent to those participating in their live show. Matt was a certain influence in Audrey's conversion to the Catholic faith. The added depth of his spiritual fatherhood, in a sense, deepens their relationship on stage. Friend and father. Male and female. (It must be stated for the one who misunderstands my words. I am in no way saying are they intimate than in a manner of friendship. Be patient and I hope to show how their communication of the beautiful truths of the human person set them apart from most other professional musicians and songwriters. P.S. Their both happily married. Matt is already exhibiting the fruit of the oneness with his wife through their beautiful baby boy.)

Matt's music is very forthright. It's out there, driving. His latest album, even more so than previous albums manifests his masculinity. The melodies are deeper, the rhythms are heavier and stronger, the messages are kerygmatic. He is out there, moving forward, pushing forward. In a sense, they imitate that natural inclination of the male to give himself fully to suffer everything for the sake of self-gift.

Audrey's music on the other hand is very introspective. It speaks much about her relationship with her Redeemer. It is very receptive, light, melismatic. It's very feminine. She uses keyboard settings that are more etherial setting a mood of receptivity.

At certain songs they came together, and witnessed through music the beauty and wholeness of marriage. Masculinity and femininity were brought together to shine forth new creation.

The witness of such beautiful and awesome, indeed truthful, self-understanding from this man and this woman will have great effect on their audiences. This is how I can be a man. This is how I can be a woman, and feel and be whole. All is centered on Christ, the Savior, the True Man, who takes away that which prevents wholeness, completeness, joy.

Matt and Audrey, if you read this. Thank you for your witness of what is to be a man and what it is to be a woman.

"When all is done, Judgment comes..."

Day of wrath! O day of mourning!
See fulfilled the prophets' warning,
Heaven and earth in ashes burning!

I have a new favorite song: the Dies Irae. Day of wrath, day of mourning. Sounds really heavy, right? And Lent is still over two weeks away. Why not wait ‘til then to talk this up. Better to set that dreary mood after Mardi Gras. That was my initial thought. However, after jamming out to DC*B's version of this ancient hymn for a month, it has made me realize something that's bursting in my chest right now. This song about the dawn of Judgment Day illuminates a part of Christian theology that was once over emphasized and is now largely ignored, a part of our good news that for centuries was seen as nothing more than bad news. Our modern mentality looks upon the last Judgment with a skepticism that disguises a groping fear. Some of the hardcore movies of our time (Terminator, Armageddon, etc) are about preventing judgment day, about erasing it, rather than about finding the courage to face it down. But Judgment Day, in the Christian tradition, ends on a happy note.

Death is struck, and nature quaking,
all creation is awaking,
to its Judge an answer making.

David Crowder purposely wrote his version of the song in C (the happiest of all keys!). That doesn't mean that the song is all sunshine and sparkles and rainbows. It does mean, however, that the very last note we hear resolve the whole hymn is a ‘C.’ If you have a piano or guitar on hand, go ahead and strike a C for me…Very good! It’s quite a happy sound, isn’t it? In the context of a sequence of songs full of dissonant power chords, fiery prophets, peals of thunder and the death of the Son of God, this simple C rings out with profound beauty. The point that Crowder is trying to make after 18 minutes of reflecting on death and judgment is that there is something strikingly beautiful to look forward to. At the end of it all.

Think, good Jesus, my salvation
cost thy wondrous Incarnation;
leave me not to reprobation!

So there was the Holocaust. And there were the Gulags. Now there is apartheid and abortion, greed and global warming. So there will be political infighting, economic unrest, famines and fires, widows and wars, and yet it will not yet be the end (See Matt. 24:6). We know not the day nor the hour, though in our darkest hours we may hope it comes sooner rather than later. Though I do not consider myself a melancholy person, I cannot have an entirely optimistic outlook on the way the world is going. I've certainly never had the chance to be idealistic. My teenage years began with 9/11 and culminated in hurricane Katrina. Whether or not things are really getting any worse, I have no scientific reason to believe that anything short of the Reign of God could make them any better. Yes, scientific: because, as far my study of the sciences (physical, social, liberal) goes, it seems obvious that God would have to come down in order to truly reverse the effects of entropy. The crimes of racism and murder cry out from the ground not just to congress or the UN. They cry to the heavens asking for atonement. My faith brings me real comfort in the knowledge that, when the time comes to judge humanity for the killings of the poor and the Jews, it will be a poor Jewish carpenter sitting on the throne.

Faint and weary, thou hast sought me,
on the cross of suffering bought me.
shall such grace be vainly brought me?

Yet, this is not the only comfort I derive. He is, after all, a truly merciful judge, like us in all ways except sin. In all ways except sin. In all ways that are good, true and beautiful. In all ways except those ways that have led to our own destruction. To this Judge, who is truly God and also truly bone of our bones and flesh of our flesh (recall: He is our spouse as well), we cry out, "Huic ego parce, Deus!”

When all is done, Judgment comes. Spare, O God: have mercy.

As a closing note, I would like to point out how refreshing it is to hear the phrase "Have mercy" resound in praise and worship songs. Normally, the Protestant theology of the authors of this genre steers them away from publically proclaiming this petition. Because of the reasons listed above, I feel that it is oh so necessary to sing it now and always. With all the weariness of this world, my heart cries out for mercy, but it cries out in the key of C!

Pie Jesu Domine,

Dona nobis requiem. Amen.

O Great God Give Us Rest!

In order to understand what follows, it would be best to watch the video at the link below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=50DStEt4uwk

Ecumenism. In case you haven't been on iTunes in the last week, you might be surprised to hear that the David Crowder* Band has released their final album, a Requiem Mass (co-authored by our boy Matt Maher). That album jumped to the top of the charts (not the Christian charts, THE charts) the day it came out. It has remained in the top 5 ever since. David Crowder is a southern baptist, a representative of Baylor University and a well versed theologian, outside of being an evagelical worship leader. Two decades ago (not to mention two centuries ago), a man from the Calvinist tradition who wrote a Mass "centered on the beauty of the Eucharist" would be kicked out of his denomination, much as the Eucharist itself was physically kicked to the curb by the first protesting iconoclasts. Now, just as it is most decidedly NOT my intention to speculate on whether or not Mr. Crowder is moving toward Rome, I also have no intention of opening up old wounds. The atorocities of the 30 year's war, the scandal of Henry VIII and the happenings of the Huguenots belong to another age, when the West was all Christian and the differences between Catholics and Protestants resulted in some of the gravest sins in history. As both protestants and Pope have admited, there was guilt on both sides. However, when I read the history of that hideous period, what disturbs me the most is the sacrelige commited by fellow Christians against the Body of Christ. We burned each other, members of that Body, at the stake and poured the Sacred Host and Precious Wine out upon the pavement. The horror of our actions should silence any finger pointing, especially now that we are centuries out from the scandal.

Now, look where we are. Maybe it is the openess of our society. Maybe the providence of time has helped heal all wounds. Maybe it is the fact that we Christians have been forced to cooperate in a strange new era, no longer having the luxury to carry out our family fued across Christendom. What was Christendom, what was our family home, has become a secularist, consumeristic, materialistic, hedonistic parody of all we hold dear. Now, more than ever, Christians must turn to truth where ever it is found. David Crowder, definitely son of these times, has discovered that Truth can be found in the Eucharist. And he has not refrained from giving glory where glory is due. At the behest of Bl John Paul II, many Catholics have found ways to praise the Lord through song styles that our fathers would call too worldly or worthless. And we have not refrained from using them to give God the glory. Now, five centuries out from our great split, Catholics and Protestants are once more praising the Sacred Host together.

This fact does not represent the end of anything, except perhaps the end of the beginning, (to borrow a phrase from Churchill). Can we dare to look forward to a future where we will no longer debate about the Blessed Sacrament, but can commit ourselves to adoring it together? I certainly hope so. But I am ambitious and hope for more than that. I hope that we have come to a point where sacred silence before that Saving Victim can truly begin to heal our divisions. Singing is a great place to begin ecumenism, but the sacraments are the only place that it can end. I am barely a theologian. I am nothing close to a minister. However, I am a child of the Church, and I must say that, though I cannot pretend to know where all this is going, I am content to kneel at the altar with Mr. Crowder. Or Mr. Tony Blair. Or whatever other leaders decided to come around to the Eucharist. Our sad division began at the foot of the altar: let us hope that it's ending may begin there as well.

O Candlemas Candle, O Candlemas Candle

Being that it is the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple, or to some, Candlemas.  I thought it would be appropriate for a hymnodic reflection.

Hail to the Lord who comes,
Comes to his temple gate,
Not with his angel hosts,
Not in his kingly state;

But borne upon the throne
Of Mary's gentle breast;
Thus to his Father's house
He comes, a humble guest.

The world's true light draws near
All darkness to dispel,
The flame of faith is lit
And dies the power of hell.

Our bodies and our souls
Are temples now for him,
For we are born of grace--
God lights our souls within

O light of all the earth!
We light out lives with thee;
The chains of darkness gone,
All sons of God are free.

John Ellerton, 1826-1893

Taken from the hymn for Morning Prayer for the Feast of the Presentation

Music Done Well

As of late, I have been reading St. Augustine's treatise, On Music.  A later blogpost will give my thoughts on the whole work but one particular part in the first of the six books interested me.

He said, "Music is the science of moving well."  As a means of necessary background, this particular treatise covers rhythm only so the definition fits well in that regard.  He goes in that chapter to make a point of the qualifier "well."  Well does not just connote the good measuring of notes at time and intervals that are pleasing to the ear; it also connotes the proper place in which those notes are heard.

Yet it is possible for this harmony and measuring to please when they shouldn't.  For example, if one should sing sweetly and dance gracefully, wishing thereby to be when the occasion demanded gravity, such a person would in no way be using harmonious mensuration (correct measuring of notes) well.  In other word, that person uses ill or improperly the motion at one time called good because of its harmony. (On Music 1.3)

There is not only good mechanics and sound but a proper place for those good mechanics and sound.  Good music is not harmony and rhythm alone, but proper placement of that harmony and rhythm.  One wouldn't play, for instance, speed trash metal during the bridal procession of a wedding.  That particular harmony and rhythm, although good in itself (some may argue otherwise), does not fit with that situation.  Now I know people push these boundaries.  The 20th and 21st centuries have been all about pushing boundaries in art, but it is boundaries, i.e. harmonics and rhythms that internally control music.  Aharmony and arhythm is not music.  It is noise, a cacophony of sound with no order.  What to me, Augustine is proposing, is that not only is the order of harmony and rhythm part of music but the placement of that harmony and rhythm within a given situation.  A director would not set "Flight of the Bumblebee" during a peaceful scene with the couple walking down a beach at sunset.  It does not fit the mood.  In our insides we naturally recognize the incoherence of that.

There also occurs in our hearts and in our senses a certain deadening of that naturally recognizable incoherence when incoherence becomes the norm.  Coherence can no longer be identified.  Say for instance someone cannot tell the dream from reality.  One actually is reality and the other a figment of imagination.

This seems to have occurred in Liturgical music over the past half century.  People recognize beautiful music and wish to incorporate it into the liturgy because of its beauty, which is indeed an admirable desire, but the second part of what Augustine describes as good music requires proper placement.  Although pop music has recognizably coherent harmony and rhythm that is pleasing to the ear, it does not fit within the framework of worship.  Pop music is an earthy, passionate, and highly emotional form of music.  It keeps one firmly in earthly experience.  It does not, but its mood and movement lift someone  up to worship in God the same way the other-worldly sound of Gregorian Chant, or Mozarabic Chant, or Byzantine Chant does.  Chant lifts someone out of themselves and moves the towards God.  The lack of meter gives a certain elevation to it.  It is guided by accents and phrases connecting lyric with melody in such an extraordinarily symbiotic way.

I'm looking at this from a philosophical viewpoint, but it would seem that this viewpoint finds its way into countless church documents about sacred music.  Corpus Christi Watershed does a good job of explaining it here:


Can you tell the difference?? from Corpus Christi Watershed on Vimeo.

Sorry Rivers You Are Not God

This blog was originally written on October 30, 2010.  The reason for postponement is in the update below.

Tonight was a definitive night.  Why should I make such a bold statement about a cool night in late October on the eve of Halloween weekend?  You might expect some earth shattering revelation or some revolutionary idea that will change the way we see the world.  In fact, I simply chose not to worship the music.  My favorite band, a band I've admired, at times I wished to be in, and at other times just plain worshiped plays as I type, in my hometown, for the first time since my knowledge of their existence.  They are not playing an ordinary show, just another stop on the tour.  No, they are playing the Voodoo Music Experience.  Where "spirituality" meets the music on the weekend of all hallows eve.  Ghosts and goblins and witchcraft all come together for the sake of the music.  All come to "worship the music" as the Experience's slogan proclaims.

I have experienced the Voodoo Music Experience twice in my life.  First in the fall of 2001, the buddy that came with me fled a sentence of house arrest he received from his parents.  We worshiped the likes of 311, Eminem, a young Black Eyed Peas, and the Stone Temple Pilots.  We left in ecstasy (not drug-related) from such a vast experience of music.  It was the greatest musical experience of my teenage life.

This trend of not fulfilling obligations continued.  My second "worship service" occurred seven years later when I chose to not fulfill some requirements of presence at a certain function.  Instead, I chose to listen and adore the great deconstruction and reconstruction of music that comes from the mind of Jeff Tweedy and Wilco.

Music seemed more important than responsibility, as if music superseded responsibility and became the categorical norm.  If it was musical it was more important.  I was indeed following what had been taught to me by MTV and VH1.  I was so influenced by this worldly concept that it in some ways cause spiritual turmoil in my own heart.

I speak this candidly for a purpose.

I chose tonight to forgo what would undeniably be the greatest musical experience of my life, Weezer playing live in New Orleans.  I chose this for my own virtue.  I have no obligations tonight.  I could have gone and not skipped on anything.  Instead, I chose to not "worship the music."  It is a step of many steps towards freedom from the concept that music supersedes responsibility but more importantly freedom from being bound by a created reality whereby I can more freely worship He who alone is worthy of worship.

Rivers Cuomo is second from the left

Sorry Rivers you are not God.









Update: I have been reading The Spirit of the Liturgy by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger.  In his chapter, he specifically speaks on rock music.

"Rock," on the other hand, is the expression of elemental passions, and at rock festivals it assumes a cultic character, a form of worship, in fact, in opposition to Christian worship. (p. 148)

Cardinal Ratzinger's quote confirms my thoughts that evening.  I previously was a reticent in posting it because of its candidness, but after reading that, it seemed appropriate.

Music can easily become a source of idolatry.  One can worship the creator of the music, as seemed to happen with the overly popular acts like The Beatles, Michael Jackson, and Elvis to name a few.  As Ratzinger says it even holds worship services, known as rock concerts.

There's a certain rite, if you will humor me.  One pays a tithe for entrance.  After entrance is granted, one either moves to the assigned seat or finds the best place to participate in the service.  There is an entrance rite performed by a local DJ.  This is followed by open acts, who are usually of lesser notoriety and do not deserve full worship.  They are the lesser deities that get you emotional revved up for the deity you came to worship.  Finally, after waiting, the time arrives when the sound waves hit your ears that excite those elemental passions and bring one over edge into musical ecstasy.  This is a communal experience.  Libations are present as ways of preparing for the ecstatic experience.

The cultic character is no doubt present.  No man, or creation, deserves that worship.  God alone.

So I repeat again.  Sorry, Rivers, you are not God.

The Triumphant Return of the Melisma

Since returning to New Orleans, I’ve had the opportunity to tune into my favorite Christian radio station again: Lifesongs 89.1 FM (God is good, all the time…) and am thoroughly surprised by the return of that medieval eccentricity so prevalent in Gregorian chant: the Melisma.

What is a melisma? According to dictionary.com, a melisma is “an ornamental phrase of several notes sung to one syllable of text, as in plainsong or blues singing.” If you’re having trouble picturing (or, rather hearing) that, think Aaron Nevilles’ style minus the falsetto. In western culture, it was originally employed by Christian hymnographers to accent the significant theological word or liturgical phrase of the song. Since the enlightenment, it had gone out of vogue with mainstream music, being erroneously associated with the more affected operatic style of singing. As with all such corrupted simplicities, the melisma has since only been used by the lower class folksong-writers, singing “with full and naïve conviction that the whole meaning of a song lies in the words and that the tune comes of itself, and that apart from the words there is no tune…”(I quote Tolstoy, War and Peace, 7vii) After all, the blue collar bard’s pedigree is of that noble breed of artists who believe that style is at the service of substance and not the other way round.

Yet in our day, when art-for-art’s-sake seemed to have reached its triumph, the melisma is making a return! Matt Maher, Chris Sligh, Sufjan Stevens, and Regina Spektor are just a few of the Lord’s singers who’ve resurrected this device in their worship. This reappearance of the melisma is a consoling sign. In the very least, it demonstrates that there are songwriters that have more concern for communicating their message than emphasizing their vocal ability. After all, the melisma is a silly device and would never make a diva out of anyone. My fellow schola members can attest that something of your ego dies when, instead of singing a simple Ave Maria, the chant notation forces you to sing AveeEEEEeeeEEEEeee MaaaAAAaaarIIIIiiiiIIIIAAaaa. In addition, it’s much easier to picture the Blessed Mother smiling benevolently at something melismatic in comparison to, say, the belting of Shubert’s AAAAAAAAAAve Mariiiiiiiiii----iiiiiiiaaa (which, I am convinced, usually leaves her rolling her eyes.). In short, the Melisma strikes down any attempt by the cantor to shift focus from the meaning of the song to the sound of his/her voice.

The other advantage to the melisma is that it leaves little room for variation outside of its own leaping and bounding. A group using melismatic chant is forced to listen to the words and listen to each other if the singing is to be successful. This focus plugs the individual into the community’s attempt at worship and translates into an encounter with the transcendent.

With the falling and rising of the notes, one must let go of the internal ups and downs that plagues one in the moment and, as a result, is connected to the rhythm of the rest of the room. Physically, this effect results in the uniting of breathing, pitch and even bodily movement. Spiritually, there is that amazing realization that occupancies all profound worship; namely, that the whole body (both one’s own and the Body of Christ) now stands before God in harmony.

Then there is this third attribute of the melisma, namely, that it is unnecessary. The very sight of its notation makes this evident. Over an ‘a’ or an ‘e’ there is this besplattering of ink that looks like a doodle from high school algebra class. Only this doodle represents, not daydreaming, but its close kin: contemplation. For nothing so confronts and defeats the utilitarianism of our day quite like prayer. And when substantial prayer is made long and frilly, our hearts, purified of our stresses and schedules, are left to bask in that most unnecessary action of God: His overflowing love for us.

St. Philip in His Disciples

Being that today is the Feast of St. Philip Neri, who is the patron of my home parish I felt I would share with you a hymn written by one of Philip's spiritual sons, John Henry Cardinal Newman.

St. Philip in His Disciples

I ASK not for fortune, for silken attire,

For servants to throng me, and crowds to admire;

I ask not for power, or for name or success,

These do not content me, these never can bless.

Let the world flaunt her glories! each glittering prize,

Though tempting to others, is nought in my eyes.

A child of St. Philip, my master and guide,

I would live as he lived, and would die as he died.

Why should I be sadden'd, though friendless I be?

For who in his youth was so lonely as he?

If spited and mock'd, so was he, when he cried

To his God on the cross to stand by his side. {313}

If scanty my fare, yet how was he fed?

On olives and herbs and a small roll of bread.

Are my joints and bones sore with aches and with pains?

Philip scourged his young flesh with fine iron chains.

A closet his home, where he, year after year,

Bore heat or cold greater than heat or cold here;

A rope stretch'd across it, and o'er it he spread

His small stock of clothes; and the floor was his bed.

One lodging besides; God's temple he chose,

And he slept in its porch his few hours of repose;

Or studied by light which the altar-lamp gave,

Or knelt at the Martyr's victorious grave.

I'm ashamed of myself, of my tears and my tongue,

So easily fretted, so often unstrung;

Mad at trifles, to which a chance moment gives birth,

Complaining of heaven, and complaining of earth. {314}

So now, with his help, no cross will I fear,

But will linger resign'd through my pilgrimage here.

A child of St. Philip, my master and guide,

I will live as he lived, and will die as he died.

Check out a song I wrote

You can find it here.

Here Sumtin Sumtin

Here's a song I've been working on.

It's called Rose of God's Love: A Canticle to St. Therese of the Child Jesus

Chorus:

O Rose of God's own love

So innocent, so pure

You bore your cross with Christ

Help me bear mine

Verse 1

You say it is in the simple things

That we find our Lord Almighty

It is through prayer and suffering

That we will see His face

Chorus

Verse 2

Light of Carmel, this mountain we walk

Is towards Christ, our loving Lord

You walked with Him on Calvary

Intercede for us who lack your faith

Chorus

Bridge

Shower us with your sweet roses

While on our pilgrimage

We await the wedding feast of the Lamb

Where with you we will dwell in Him

Chorus