U.S. Grace Force Podcast Worth The Time

 Our culture is full of a lot that is not real. That includes the cult of celebrity. In this U.S. Grace Force Podcast, Father Rich and Dave talk to a Hollywood producer about the true state of the entertainment industry, and who really are the Satanists in Tinseltown. 

Catholic Church Music, Good and Bad and Why the Faithful Are Confused Telling the Difference

Recently, by some stroke of God's will, I was looking for something to put on the iPad while I walked on the treadmill and came across a video from not quite a year ago on the Youtube channel Catholic Talk Show. The title was "The 10 Best Catholic Songs of All Time." Being a professional cantor and soloist in multiple parishes for decades with over thirty years of private voice training and having been a section leader at the Cathedral here as well as being a member of the Symphony Chorus for a number of years, I was interested and hit play.

Well....

The discussion that followed demonstrated that Catholic knowledge of music itself as a whole, a body of work, is rather lacking (most likely a casualty of the demise of the once mighty teaching orders of nuns), and I feel compelled to write out a rather long response to not just that video, but also to the one that inspired it, "The 10 Worst Catholic Songs." For the most part I agree with the earlier video about the worst songs, but not the second. Most of the best literature wasn't even mentioned.

The first song named in the video as being a great Catholic song was Schubert's "Ave Maria." I hate to be the one to break it to the guys on Catholic Talk Show, but that particular "Ave Maria" is, well, an art song (Lieder in German), and is number ten in the second part of Schubert Lieder. (Yes, I have the full collection from voice training.) The original text is in German and is a translation of a poem from Sir Walter Scott's "The Lady in the Lake." Somebody out there, sometime back, shoehorned the Latin into the music. And...well, the clip they played of the song was really in German, not Latin. The bottom line on the Schubert "Ave Maria" is that, technically, we aren't supposed to sing it in Catholic Churches regardless of how much it touches the heart, and in many Cathedrals it is not allowed. It was not written as sacred. (This schizophrenic notion of "sacred music" will come up later.)

That being said, the Schubert is bar none the piece I have done most often as a solo, and yes, I have made people cry singing it more than once, but the Faure Ave Maria is more appropriate. So is the Bach-Gounod. And for the greatest composition of Catholic Church music of all time, I would put these on a dartboard and toss one at it to determine that:

Allegri - Miserere Mei (It's a BEAR to sing, but gorgeous)
Mozart - Ave Verum Corpus (sublime)
Rossini - "Quando Corpus" from the Stabat Mater
Anything by Palestrina.

Granted, this discussion is completely subjective, but when I think of the month of May, "Immaculate Mary" is not at the top of the list. "Hail, Holy Queen" (one of EXACTLY two hymns all Catholics will actually sing), "On This Day O Beautiful Mother," "Bring Flowers of the Rarest" for the May Crowning and "Sing of Mary" all come before that. All of them. When I was growing up, those were the hymns and songs we sang at the May Crowning, so it evokes memories. But, that's just me. At least "Hail Mary, Gentle Woman" wasn't mentioned. I charge extra to sing that.

"Veni Creator Spiritus," the Pentecost Sequence...no real arguments other than I like "Laude Sion," the Corpus Christi Sequence, better. The Christmas and Easter Sequences..."Victimae Pascquali Laudes" is in a minor key? Why, when this is the most triumphant feast on the Liturgical calendar. And, guys, technically, that IS chant. I've read them in neumes.

"Dies Irae" fine. I love the Mozart, don't get me wrong. I've sung it in three performance runs with orchestra, but the setting of that text which really demonstrates the power of it is in the Verdi Requiem.

Yes, I've sung that one, too.

Cesar Franck's "Panis Angelicus"...okay. Don't forget the Lambillotte, though. That's really a congregational hymn as opposed to a choral piece or solo. To be clear on the St. Thomas Aquinas writing it, he wrote the TEXT. He wrote the text for a lot of stuff, including "Pange Lingua" of which "Tantum Ergo" is the last two verses. The actual chants, and hymn settings were written over the next five hundred years, at least. The tune we usually use for "O Solutaris Hostia" was written in the eighteenth century.

The discussion on the Advent and Christmas seasons went on forever. For the most part, I do agree that the two seasons represent some of the best music we use in the Church. In knowing that what is the cream of the crop, musically speaking, survives, usually, what we use today, IS the cream from the last fifteen hundred years. The music for those two seasons connects us to the past in the Church like nothing else can. 

The discussion on "O Come, O Come, Emmanual" actually prompted some research as the date on that piece is always listed as eighth or nineth century, no one really knows.  The backstory of that hymn is that the Latin text is a synthesis of the Advent Antiphons, and it was put to a funeral processional chant found in a fifteenth century Franciscan chant collection of some sort. The text was put to the chant tune in the the nineteenth century. In fact, the oldest piece for Advent we have is not Veni, Veni Emmanuel, but "Of the Father's Love Begotten." It's older by a few hundred years, as it dates to the fifth century. "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" is, the best known of the Advent literature, admittedly, and does set the mood for the season in some ways. 

As for specifically Advent hymns, there are several. "Comfort, Comfort," "People Look East," "O Come Divine Messiah," which Father Rich sang, are among them, and all of those are in the most popular of the hymnals. Advent is actually my favorite season, so I'm prejudiced about all of this, and the reality that these guys may not know of this music is a tragedy. 

Christmas is almost its own animal, as it has its own music. I have no complaints on "O Come All Ye Faithful" (this is the processional at EVERY Christmas Eve or Christmas Day Mass I sing every year) or "Silent Night," but have a soft spot for In Dulci Jubilo, which the tune is used for "Good Christian Friends Rejoice." "O Holy Night" has worn thin over the years. The people love it, and the choirs...not so much. Too much of a good thing and all that. That's part of why the "bad" music is considered that.

"Be Not Afraid" Where to begin? Well, see, John Michael Talbot might have performed it, but that's a St. Louis Jesuits song from their 1975/76 album, "A Dwelling Place." Father Bob Dufford, S.J., wrote it. Trust me, we had the album, along with every other STL Jesuit album, and, unfortunately, I knew most of it by heart back in the day. There's two main problems with "Be Not Afraid." One, the text takes on the voice of God, which we really aren't supposed to do, and two, the sucker is so low, a lot of people have a hard time singing it. That doesn't get into the sixteenth notes, which really should not be used in congregational singing, in my opinion. They always seem to turn into eighths. That being said, it is one of the standard six songs frequently used at Funeral and Memorial Masses. Many of those are on the "bad" music list.

Black spirituals are a mixed bag. Some are really good, some aren't. My favorite is "Ain't Got Time To Die," but we don't use that in the Catholic Church. "Were You There" most definitely is the one that really fits, especially on Good Friday. There is no issue with the theology, and it can be done so solemnly that it does really touch the soul. "How Great Thou Art" is beloved, that's for sure, but this is another of those pieces that is precious to people who came of age with it. If it's in front of me, I will sing it, unlike "Go Tell It On The Mountain" and "Rain Down." If I'm not cantoring, nope.

"Dark Was The Night" was new to me, and it will stay on the video.

If we are talking about the ten best chant and non-seasonal hymns and songs (yes, there is a difference. Songs have a refrain, hymns just have verses) for congregation used at Mass, I would like to offer in no particular order:

• Holy God, We Praise Thy Name (the other Catholic hymn EVERY congregation will sing)
• Humbly, Lord We Worship You (Adoro Te Devote)
• The Supper of the Lord
• The Servant Song by Richard Gillard
• Lord of All Hopefulness
• O God, You Search Me
• The King of Love My Shepherd Is
• Where Charity and Love Prevail
• Love Goes On
• O Beauty, Ever Ancient (yes, Father Roc O'Connor, S.J., was in the St. Louis Jesuits band, but this is actually decent)
• O God Beyond All Praising (the tune is from the Jupiter section of Gustav Holst's "The Planets," and there are no complaints about using it - a symphonic setting - in Church unlike opera and art songs, which are technically not allowed)

There's more, of course. The current hymnals are full of gems that don't go into the meat for the grinder of the "bad" list. And additional Mary hymns, Bernadette Farrell's "Magnificat" and the traditional "Salve Regina" are nice.

And now, on to the bad and ugly, and a bit of an augmenting explanation of why we're still doing all of it. Unfortunately, these aren't all of the worst Catholic songs of all time. In fact, the worst we don't actually sing anymore.

The discussion on the set in their ways baby boomers...they need to retire and won't for whatever reason. Just remember, this too, the wretched music, will pass, in this case by attrition. I'll get to more of this later.

For the record, the felt banners in my home parish were made on my mother's dining room table and some of them were a lot of work. And, no, they really don't belong in Church.

"Companions on the Journey" by Rory Cooney. One of my brothers has threatened to sing this at my funeral. There's only one parish I know of that uses it, and that's because the pastor requests it. Absolutely, no argument here. Trash.

Folk music around a campfire...where it belongs. Yes.

Just a point of order, and a pet peeve, the former Jesuit known as Dan Schutte, it's pronounced shoo-tee. The group got their start in my hometown, and that's how we all say it. That's not how it's pronounced in German, but American mouths don't make those vowel sounds. Tim Manion left the Jesuits to get married back in the early 1970s. The other three - Duford, O'Connor, and Father John Foley, S.J. - are all still priests in good standing. I've actually met Foley, and he is a very nice man.

When it comes to Jesuit ditties that grate, "Sing a New Song" is not the worst. Not even. "All My Days" was worse, and I don't remember singing it in the last forty years. It was the first of the Jesuit songs to hit the Mass, and the first to be jettisoned. It's like fingernails down a blackboard. Most of Schutte's stuff is crap, and that includes the My Little Pony Mass, I mean "Mass of Christ the Savior."

"We Remember" by Marty Haugen...may his music die when he does. And yes, that includes the Mass of Cremation, uh, Creation. The day after Thanksgiving in 2011 when the translation of Mass changed, I had planned to find every copy of the wretched thing I could, and burn them. A Mass of Creation cremation...and he found a way to rewrite it. That Gloria was a BEAR to relearn.

Side note on the St. Louis Jesuits: 

They were the music at Saint Louis University's College Church, St. Francis Xavier. St. X is a BIG, gothic structure vaulted perfectly for organ, and they took the pipe organ - multi-million dollar instrument - and threw it in a dumpster.

"Here I Am, Lord" is again the congregation taking on the voice of God. It is a funeral staple, although,  for the life of me I can't figure out why.

"Gather Us In" See the comments on "We Remember" above. It might be ripped off of other musical compositions, but that's a way of life in music. Ask me sometime about John Williams and where he got "Jaws" and "Star Wars."

"Canticle of the Sun" text is actually based on poetry by St. Francis of Assisi, but again it's a tune that even the professionals in the choir lofts have a hard time singing. All those sixteenth notes at a fairly brisk tempo are not easy to get out with a lot of text. The congregation doesn't stand a chance.

Again, a quick side bar on the meaning of insipid. There are two I see: lacking flavor and lacking vigor and interest. That threshold is different for everyone. The definition of bad music, on the other hand, is pretty much determined by the seasoning of one's musical palate.

"The King of Glory"...used to sing that ALL THE TIME. My mother calls it "the Jewish campfire song." I haven't heard it in a long time. This was one that came to be in the wake of the switch to the vernacular when the only music available was old, protestant stuff. It was actually in the first wave.

"Table of Plenty" should be tabled. Permanently.

"On Eagles Wings" There's a soft spot in my heart for this one even if the range needed to sing it is about at Star Spangled Banner levels. Father Michael Joncas doesn't get why it's so popular, either. Truthfully, done right, it can be quite beautiful, and the text is inspirational. The problem is the way it's done.

Additions to the list to be considered:

• Anthem
• We Have No Glory
• I Am the Bread of Life (easily the song most lampooned by the pros)
• We are the Light of the World
• Sing of the Lord's Goodness (I love Dave Brubeck, but not in Church)
• Sing to the Mountains
• Ashes

There's more of course. At this point, I've sung so much of it over the years, music directors redeem themselves when they schedule good stuff. Fortunately, the younger generation of priests are not as into this junk. I recently sang a wedding where ten priests were on the altar, and maybe two were older than forty. The rest were younger. The piece for the Virgin was "Stella Redemptoris Mater." The younger guys all sang it with me from memory. That was, frankly, the most Catholic Mass I had attended in years.

I would in this space like to make one kind of vital correction to the discussion on why we are saddled with this junk.

Music directors don't always have the death grip on the music. But, the hymnal publishers do. It's more like the old hippies on the board at the largest liturgical music and missalette company have a death grip on it. In fact, the composer of their set of psalm chants sits on the board itself, so we aren't going to get anything new in the way of psalters from that company until that person no longer has that seat. Frankly, most of us in music ministry really would like to move on from all of it, but the pastors keep buying their products for the pews, so we're stuck unless a pastor is willing to spring for a weekly worship aid. We're also stuck in a way because that publisher puts out a liturgy planning aid a few times a year, and makes suggestions on what pieces in the hymnals would match the readings for any one Sunday. Talk about lazy for the music directors.

To make things even more circular, how the music for each year's set of missalettes and books for the pews is selected for that publisher is by survey of music directors. I know a number who don't bother filling out the thing, and that could well be why so many decent songs and hymns have disappeared over the years. It's cheap and convenient for the pastors to just buy an all in one product. So, it's not just the music directors. It's a multi-faceted problem that also is compounded by lack of music education, and congregants not joining the choir for whatever reason, let alone a lack of professional voices.

This, of course, brings up one of the things Father Rich talked about at length in the first video and that is investing in the liturgy. One of the big reasons the choirs are lacking in professional musicians is because the protestants pay, and, in general right now, Catholic pastors don't. A lot of us have church jobs in protestant congregations, and volunteer at an off time Mass in the home parish. The stipends are not that large in any church, truthfully. In the United States, no one makes a living being a Church musician unless they are music directors for an archdiocese. It just doesn't happen. The Church used to be music's greatest patron. Now, in the post-Vatican II era, pastors will put up with whatever volunteers will offer. I happen to have a gig in a parish with a pastor who is willing to pay for good music, but he is one of very few from the baby boomer generation who will.

The Mass is a performance or is not discussion...the preparation and presentation to sing at Mass have just about all the elements of performance, but we're not supposed to call it that. I have a sister and a friend who do anyway, call it a performance. This has been raging in my life for a few decades. Most of us just ignore it, and do our jobs.

As for bad music being the reason why people quit going to church...I think that's more of an excuse than not. But, it is true that just about everywhere I've been in a GOOD choir, we've gotten notes telling us about how inspirational the music was at this Mass or that one. Usually, it's following funerals. I've gotten thank you notes and gifts from strangers after singing at a Funeral or Memorial Mass. Good music does touch the soul. 

That being said, the four hymn sandwich, as I've heard the Novus Ordo called by musicians, really is protestant in origin. A return to the Introits, Collects, and Antiphons would be welcome, to be honest. For a brief period, I worked under a director who resurrected them, and suddenly Mass itself made more sense. That was lost when the modernization revolution happened, and for some reason the people caught up in the movement didn't realize that they were depriving future generations of their heritage. All they wanted was to expunge Latin.

And so, there it is. My lengthy response to a discussion that does need to happen in the Catholic Church, and hopefully will in the coming decades. How to fix the education and professional musician issues will need to be in the mix, not just better compositions. It will cost money, but this is a place where you get what you pay for if you don't.

What We Catholic Kids Didn’t Learn In The 80s

There’s a joke, sort of, about what we Catholic kids didn’t learn in the 1980s. And the 1970s, for that matter. In the last couple of decades, some of us have tried to make up for the lack and have studied up on the Faith. What we didn’t know….

This is my list of terminology, let alone what is behind those terms:

• Catechesis
• Doctor of the Church
• Church Founders
• Apologetics
• Deposit of Faith
• Sacred Tradition
• Apocrypha
• Sanctifying Grace

And much more.

We who came of age in the 1980s, and were “educated” in the Faith in Catholic schools were exposed to a lot of ideas, some Scripture and exchanges on morality, but concrete education on what the Church teaches, why it is taught that way, and how to defend those teachings was not part of the package. That, for many of us, had to be learned later.

Thankfully, when Pope Saint John Paul II put out his Catechism, the understanding began to dawn, as did the idea that Church history MUST be taught right alongside the rest so that we can understand that the Church is on a continuum, and no matter how bad the leadership is or how many people fall away, the Faith itself does not change.

Sermons on Prayer

 

LUKE 11:1-13

1He was praying in a certain place, and when he ceased, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples." 2And he said to them, "When you pray, say: "Father, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. 3Give us each day our daily bread; 4and forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive every one who is indebted to us; and lead us not into temptation." 5And he said to them, "Which of you who has a friend will go to him at midnight and say to him, `Friend, lend me three loaves; 6for a friend of mine has arrived on a journey, and I have nothing to set before him'; 7and he will answer from within, `Do not bother me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything'? 8I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him whatever he needs. 9And I tell you, Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. 10For every one who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. 11What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; 12or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? 13If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

 

Over the weekend, as per usual, I heard three different homilies on the same readings. This past weekend, the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, the priests in the parishes where I sing, all took a stab at this passage from the Gospel According to St. Luke.

The first priest is a Dominican Friar, and a frequent guest at the one parish. He talked at length about this, and memorable his words were not. But, at the time, it was good.

The second priest, the rector at one of the Churches used as a Cathedral over the years, talked about a young couple asking for prayer for their son, who was since diagnosed with mild autism. The husband of the couple repeated to Monsignor the words he says at every Mass. “We pray for what we think we need. Please, grant us what you know we need.” That is the root of what all prayer is, after all. The words were familiar and stuck with me.

The third priest, a young Jesuit who embodies traditional Ignatian thought and fervor, began with observations of the Our Father. Essentially, it is a series of command sentences and isn’t it presumptuous of mere mortals to make such demands of the Deity. It was most amusing before he went into how we are to be humble in prayer and steeped in virtue, something that is desperately lacking many times. We also got a bit of a history lesson on the Our Father and how the early Christians recited it with passion three times a day. This was before the more formal developments of prayer, and Liturgy, so, it was what Christians at the time knew.

And so, St. Luke’s version of the Our Father was somewhat explained. It is the instruction from Our Lord and Savior to His sheep on what to request: our daily bread, forgive us, lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil. We can pray for these things all we want. The thing is, we still have to keep our end of the bargain.

That part of the deal has been muddied over the last five hundred years.

Adore, Worship, and Venerate…Not all words are created equal

 Recently, I got into a debate with a sincere protestant friend who has the idea that Catholics worship the Blessed Mother. The specific complaint was that Catholics kneel and then pray to Mary. To this person, being on one’s knees means we worship the individual to whom we are praying.

Well….

In the course of the conversation of trying to explain that, no, Catholics, in fact, do not worship Mary, but venerate her, it occurred to me that we Catholics don’t say we worship so much since the retranslation of the Mass and the Nicene Creed in 2011.

Now, when referring to how God in the Trinity is recognized, we say the word ADORE.

The reason being is fairly simple. In the original Latin text, the word at that point of the Creed is adoratur, and obviously a direct correlation. The word “adore” has French, a language based in Latin, roots.

adore (v.)

late 14c., aouren, "to worship, pay divine honors to, bow down before," from Old French aorer "to adore, worship, praise" (10c., later adorer), from Latin adorare "speak to formally, beseech, entreat, ask in prayer," in Late Latin "to worship," literally "to call to," from ad "to" (see ad-) + ōrare "speak formally, pray" (see orator). Meaning "to honor very highly" is attested from 1590s; weakened sense of "to be very fond of" emerged by 1880s.

 

The word “worship,” on the other hand, is rooted in English from the Middle Ages.

worship (n.)

Old English worðscip, wurðscip (Anglian), weorðscipe (West Saxon) "condition of being worthy, dignity, glory, distinction, honor, renown," from weorð "worthy" (see worth) + -scipe (see -ship). Sense of "reverence paid to a supernatural or divine being" is first recorded c. 1300. The original sense is preserved in the title worshipful "honorable" (c. 1300).

 

Interestingly enough, this definition actually more closely matches the word “venerate,” also of Latin origin.

veneration (n.)

early 15c., from Old French veneracion, from Latin venerationem (nominative veneratio) "reverence, profoundest respect," noun of action from past participle stem of venerari "to worship, revere," from venus (genitive veneris) "beauty, love, desire" (from PIE root *wen- (1) "to desire, strive for").

 

So, each of the three words have shades of different meaning with adore being the strongest in religious terms.

But, the truth is, we Catholics DO NOT adore the Blessed Mother. To do that, knees and heads bow. We do not genuflect before Mary – the act of bending one’s right knee to the floor while facing the Tabernacle, and making the Sign of the Cross. We genuflect to the Second Person of the Trinity, and when attending exposition of the Blessed Sacrament – Eucharistic ADORATION – the genuflection is to go on both knees and bow reverently to the floor. As much as Mary, the Blessed Mother, is honored and loved, she does not receive that action as part of prayer.

And so, strictly due to language deterioration, this wedge of a belief barrier is somewhat unmovable. The number of protestants who simply can’t get past that place that the Blessed Mother has in the Faith – a place that even the original people protesting and revolting did not deny – is really somewhat a matter of word choice.

 

 

Pain of the Prodigals

In the course of using Catholic Twitter, there is a definite group of prodigals, people who have fallen away, who fall under the same category of suffering failure of the institutional Church thus causing a loss of Faith.

What is most distressing about this is that a number of these people reached out for help and were rebuffed. In some cases, it was a failure to get justice after abuse. Others had doubts and were told to get over it, or snap out of it. Yet others were ignored. To add insult to injury, the adherents of the movement itself were just as abusive.

None of that follows Christ’s words to, “Love one another as I have loved you.”

Truthfully, what is lacking in the response from the clergy and other Catholics involved is compassion. The prodigals’ needs were not met at all by those they trusted to lead them in spiritual life or when they needed support to remain in the Faith.

What is really eye opening, though, is the number of these people who attend Traditional Latin Mass where the priests did not address their needs.

We have heard for years how superior the TLM is to the Novus Ordo, and yet, this is how the priests and others in the movement treat those who are most in need of bolstering. They do not help, nor do they even move toward the fatted calf when the prodigals approach.

If the reality was that there really is nowhere else to turn for those who remain, such behavior would induce more defection. As it is, the scandal is embarrassing enough for a lot of us.

The Darling Couple

In all the decades I have been a Catholic, I’ve known many a couple in love. Usually, they are the older ones who have weathered storms together, not kept score, and take delight in being in each other’s presence.

It is normal to see this in Catholic parishes. However, one couple stands out. Their names are John and Susie and I see them at a parish where I am a cantor.

Recently, I sang an Ave Maria at a funeral at which they were in attendance. After the Mass, John and Susie who look to be in their late sixties or early seventies came up to the altar where I was packing my things to leave to compliment my efforts. They were hand in hand, and smiling from ear to ear, two having been one for what was obviously a very long time.

It was, to put it plainly, sweet. So sweet. Every Sunday they are at that parish, it is the same. John and Susie are an example of what outward Catholic marriage is about I would imagine. Being single, I’ve yet to experience that, but their happiness shines through from the soul.

I hope if I do find a worthy husband, we can exhibit the same peace and joy that John and Susie bring to Church every Sunday.