The Chant Guerrilla
Today, for the first time in a year, I helped plan the music for a Mass as well as execute it. It was a retreat day, with a visiting priest whom we know and who is fond of chant. We knew we'd never be able to get away with a chant-only Mass, but we did the best we could. We sang an actual Graduale Romanum chant, the Kyrie was chanted, the Psalm used an actual chant psalm-tone for the verses, and the Introit was a Proper text in camouflage. We waited until the last possible moment to tell anybody what the music for the Mass was going to be. We were like Gregorian guerrillas, firing off a few surprise rounds and then disappearing back into the forest. And you know what? We made a couple of hits.
Being First Saturday, we had a Votive Mass for the Blessed Virgin.
For the introit, we sang the hymnodized version from "Introit Hymns" by Christopher Tzietze. When we bought that book, I didn't think we'd ever actually use it. But here we are. I don't like a lot of the hymn tunes chosen for that book, but this particular one was set to the tune of "The Angel Gabriel Came Down," which is cute and seasonally-appropriate
Psalm was the Magnificat, in a setting from the Chabanel site (of course). The Ordinaries were from the Mass of St. Frances Cabrini, which was chosen as the setting for all diocesan liturgies, and we've been using it in our parish since September. It's one of the few things that all the parish musicians, guitar-lovers and chanty-types alike agree on: we all dislike it. Oh well. It could have been worse.
Offertory hymn was "The God Whom Earth and Sea and Sky." A nod to using the parish hymnals, but as solid a hymn as you could choose: a translation of a 7th century text, with a 17th-century melody harmonized by Bach. And although it's not a proper text, it does at least say all the same things as the Offertory options from the Common of the Blessed Virgin. Finally, for Communion, I sang the actual Graduale chant, Ecce virgo concipiet. It felt SO GOOD to sing that.
I have to share what one of the congregants said to me about the Communion chant. "It was beautiful and peaceful and so meditative to be able to receive without being expected to sing, without all the clutter of trying to prepare and also find the page in the hymnal. And if I hadn't experienced hearing the chant, I never would have realized that the other way was clutter."
You should have seen her face when I told her that the parish Liturgist didn't want me to sing that chant. Not that he voiced his displeasure to me; he took it out on the lovely lady who organized the retreat day, who didn't have anything to do with the music other than asking us to plan it. She told us about it later. I don't think the Liturgist would ever confront me. I suspect he is secretly a little afraid of me. If he weren't, he probably would have asked me long ago not to wear a veil when I am a cantor and not to kneel at Communion, or told me off when I refused to announce the hymns at a funeral because the words and music were all in the worship aids anyway. But he didn't do those things. When I said I wasn't going to announce the hymns, he just said "Ok" and scurried away. Ha!
The Liturgist is a menace. I'm not sure if he's worse than the Business Manager, but they both need to go. We're losing one of the best staff members because of their behavior, and the parish will lose three more as soon as other jobs can be found. People are refusing to pony up their pledged money for the new building project because everything has been so mismanaged. The place is falling apart, and it could be fixed so easily. The pastor could fire the Business Manager, Liturgist, and Music Director. He could hire an accountant, a part-time sacristan, and a secretary for the other two music staff and save the parish tens of thousands of dollars and a lot of grief. But he won't. He'll just watch the rest of the staff leave, and be sorry to see them go but not in a hurry to rectify the problems that are causing them to leave. He's a good priest, but an awful manager, and it's sad. He could take some lessons from his parochial vicar, a take-no-prisoners type who might run over some toes but would ultimately have a tightly-run ship that better fulfilled the spiritual needs of the parishioners. I guess they all need prayers.
I hope some of the people who heard our music today will go to the pastor, write to the music department and to the Liturgist and tell them how much they liked it, and exactly WHY it was so great.
22 November 2011
Happy Feast of St. Cecilia!
Since we're musicians around here, this is a special feast day for us. Let us do as St. Cecilia recommends, and also exemplified:
Dum aurora finem daret, Caecilia exclamavit dicens: Eja, milites Christi, abjicite opera tenebrarum et induimini arma lucis.
As dawn was fading into day, Cecilia spoke with a loud voice, saying: Arise, O soldiers of Christ, cast away the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.
Cecilia, famula tua, Domine, quasi apis tibi argumentosa deservit.
O Lord, your servant Cecilia served you like a busy bee.
Aren't these lovely? We certainly lost some treasures in the new Office, including the image of the bee in that antiphon. Sad. Incidentally, can any one tell me about the word "argumentosa" here? It's being translated as "busy," but none of the dictionaries I have translate it that way. Maybe I am looking up the wrong stem?
Anyway, a bit of encouragement, brothers and sisters: this morning, arise, put on the armor of light, and be bee-busy serving the Lord!
St. Cecilia and her husband Valerian from the apse mosaic in the basilica of St. Cecilia in Rome.
Since we're musicians around here, this is a special feast day for us. Let us do as St. Cecilia recommends, and also exemplified:
Dum aurora finem daret, Caecilia exclamavit dicens: Eja, milites Christi, abjicite opera tenebrarum et induimini arma lucis.
As dawn was fading into day, Cecilia spoke with a loud voice, saying: Arise, O soldiers of Christ, cast away the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.
Cecilia, famula tua, Domine, quasi apis tibi argumentosa deservit.
O Lord, your servant Cecilia served you like a busy bee.
Aren't these lovely? We certainly lost some treasures in the new Office, including the image of the bee in that antiphon. Sad. Incidentally, can any one tell me about the word "argumentosa" here? It's being translated as "busy," but none of the dictionaries I have translate it that way. Maybe I am looking up the wrong stem?
Anyway, a bit of encouragement, brothers and sisters: this morning, arise, put on the armor of light, and be bee-busy serving the Lord!
St. Cecilia and her husband Valerian from the apse mosaic in the basilica of St. Cecilia in Rome.
16 November 2011
Que Sera, Sera
The girl who was my best friend in 7th grade has a three-year-old daughter now. As proven by a recent video, the three-year-old knows almost all the words to "Que Sera, Sera" and can actually sing them fairly tunefully. I am super impressed! Children are amazing.
I babysat three awesome little ones today so that their mother could go to her first pre-natal visit for #4. They are 6, 4 and 2. They were not acting too awesome today because they'd recently been pumped full of artificial food colors, to which they are sensitive. But mostly they were charming, especially when the oldest one sat next to me on the couch reading a book while the two little ones crawled around the floor pretending to be puppies, or when we went outside and made "snow angels" in the fallen leaves. They mostly did what I told them to do, and shared toys and didn't argue. And the oldest girl wants to have a BVM-themed birthday party--isn't that sweet?
It was a little less charming when all three decided to imitate their grandpa with his leaf blower ("bzzzzzzZZZZZZZZzzzzzzz I'm blowing leaves in your face, HAHAHAHAHAHA"). Children are amazing, but sometimes weird.
On the other hand, I'd be really tempted to do something like that if I had a real leaf blower. Maybe I'm still a kid too, at least a little bit.
The girl who was my best friend in 7th grade has a three-year-old daughter now. As proven by a recent video, the three-year-old knows almost all the words to "Que Sera, Sera" and can actually sing them fairly tunefully. I am super impressed! Children are amazing.
I babysat three awesome little ones today so that their mother could go to her first pre-natal visit for #4. They are 6, 4 and 2. They were not acting too awesome today because they'd recently been pumped full of artificial food colors, to which they are sensitive. But mostly they were charming, especially when the oldest one sat next to me on the couch reading a book while the two little ones crawled around the floor pretending to be puppies, or when we went outside and made "snow angels" in the fallen leaves. They mostly did what I told them to do, and shared toys and didn't argue. And the oldest girl wants to have a BVM-themed birthday party--isn't that sweet?
It was a little less charming when all three decided to imitate their grandpa with his leaf blower ("bzzzzzzZZZZZZZZzzzzzzz I'm blowing leaves in your face, HAHAHAHAHAHA"). Children are amazing, but sometimes weird.
On the other hand, I'd be really tempted to do something like that if I had a real leaf blower. Maybe I'm still a kid too, at least a little bit.
13 November 2011
Neat Stuff
Check out my friend's Etsy shop PaxCarmel. She and her husband are selling beautiful knives made from railroad spikes made on a tiny forge in their backyard.
I have the coolest friends!
Check out my friend's Etsy shop PaxCarmel. She and her husband are selling beautiful knives made from railroad spikes made on a tiny forge in their backyard.
I have the coolest friends!
12 November 2011
11 November 2011
Veteran's Day
When I think of WWI, I always think of two pictures that hung on the wall of my parents' home when I was a child. The pictures were of my mother's grandfathers, Otis and Olen, each in an Army uniform. Unfortunately I don't have copies of those pictures to share. I don't have pictures of my grandfather and grandmother in their Navy and Army Nurse uniforms. I don't have pictures of my great-uncle, or two uncles, or assorted cousins, or father-in-law in their uniforms, either. In fact, I hardly have any family photos at all. I'll inherit them eventually. In the meantime, it's just as well--I'd probably lose them.
I do, however, have access to one photo of the aforementioned Otis, which happens to have been published on the internet. Otis is the small boy in the Little Lord Fauntleroy suit. The older boy is his half-brother (his mother's son from a previous relationship, even though Genealogy.com will try to tell you they're full brothers), the baby is his sister, held by their mother. The man in the coffin is Otis's father, an Irish immigrant, dead of dysentery at 39.
It might look like Maggie is smiling here, but I assure you that her face is clearer in the original photograph and she is clearly not smiling.
I remember the first time I saw this photo in a family album. I was pretty shocked. But photos like this were not uncommon at the time--pretty much the last chance to take a family photo if you didn't already have one. The children here did not meet happy fates, alas. The older boy was a professional card player in a smoke shop, and the baby was eventually sent off to be raised by another family. Otis joined the army, and then came home and married a very pretty local girl and had a son. Otis's wife died of TB just a few years later and Otis had to send his son to be cared for by relatives, first by Maggie here pictured, and later with the boy's maternal relatives. Otis died of TB in 1933 at a VA hospital. He was 40 years old.
Otis's little boy is 91 years old now, having surpassed the combined lifespans of his father and grandfather a decade ago. He's a veteran, too--of WWII and Korea.
When I think of WWI, I always think of two pictures that hung on the wall of my parents' home when I was a child. The pictures were of my mother's grandfathers, Otis and Olen, each in an Army uniform. Unfortunately I don't have copies of those pictures to share. I don't have pictures of my grandfather and grandmother in their Navy and Army Nurse uniforms. I don't have pictures of my great-uncle, or two uncles, or assorted cousins, or father-in-law in their uniforms, either. In fact, I hardly have any family photos at all. I'll inherit them eventually. In the meantime, it's just as well--I'd probably lose them.
I do, however, have access to one photo of the aforementioned Otis, which happens to have been published on the internet. Otis is the small boy in the Little Lord Fauntleroy suit. The older boy is his half-brother (his mother's son from a previous relationship, even though Genealogy.com will try to tell you they're full brothers), the baby is his sister, held by their mother. The man in the coffin is Otis's father, an Irish immigrant, dead of dysentery at 39.
It might look like Maggie is smiling here, but I assure you that her face is clearer in the original photograph and she is clearly not smiling.
I remember the first time I saw this photo in a family album. I was pretty shocked. But photos like this were not uncommon at the time--pretty much the last chance to take a family photo if you didn't already have one. The children here did not meet happy fates, alas. The older boy was a professional card player in a smoke shop, and the baby was eventually sent off to be raised by another family. Otis joined the army, and then came home and married a very pretty local girl and had a son. Otis's wife died of TB just a few years later and Otis had to send his son to be cared for by relatives, first by Maggie here pictured, and later with the boy's maternal relatives. Otis died of TB in 1933 at a VA hospital. He was 40 years old.
Otis's little boy is 91 years old now, having surpassed the combined lifespans of his father and grandfather a decade ago. He's a veteran, too--of WWII and Korea.
27 October 2011
Breakfast
Sorry the photo is a little blurry. I took it with my brand-new iPod Touch 4G, an early anniversary present from my husband. He thoughtfully had the back inscribed, "MVSICA LAETITIAE COMES MEDICINA DOLORVM." The previous iPod had my name and phone number on the back, but statistically it's unlikely to be returned even with that information. So we have a fun inscription this time, of the sort that's usually written on painted harpsichords and lutes. It will serve just as well to identify it if I accidentally leave it behind at airport security or something.
Anyway...breakfast! Yes, that's what I meant to talk about. This is a picture of my breakfast this morning: pumpkin oatmeal and tea. Isn't the Eeyore mug cute? It contains "O'Sullivan's Favorite" tea from a beautiful little tea shop in Raleigh. Loose-leaf tea, that I make in a proper teapot. The blue and white teapot has a built-in filter, which is quite cool. I've had the teapot for five or six years now, certainly since before I married, but I never used it much. Now I use it almost every day.
Maybe you're curious about the pumpkin oatmeal. Did you know that pumpkin is very good for you? It's high in fiber and Vitamin A, it has a little bit of protein, and it's not very high in calories if you're not putting a bunch of sugar in it to make a pie. Pumpkin oatmeal is very easy. Make your oatmeal as usual--you could probably even do this with the instant kind that you just add boiling water to--and add two tablespoons of mashed pumpkin (I use canned) per serving. Don't use canned pumpkin pie mix (nasty stuff), just plain canned pumpkin. I add raisins and dried cranberries while it is cooking, so the dried fruit plumps up in the hot water. A little brown sugar or maple syrup on top, a little milk, some walnuts or almonds if you need more protein, and it's ready. It takes about ten minutes, maybe less, if you do it on the stovetop with regular oats. I'm sure this would also be good with other kinds of grainy cereal, like that Bob's Red Mill 7 grain hot cereal, but it might be a little weird with Cream of Wheat.
A good, healthy breakfast for a beautiful fall morning.
Sorry the photo is a little blurry. I took it with my brand-new iPod Touch 4G, an early anniversary present from my husband. He thoughtfully had the back inscribed, "MVSICA LAETITIAE COMES MEDICINA DOLORVM." The previous iPod had my name and phone number on the back, but statistically it's unlikely to be returned even with that information. So we have a fun inscription this time, of the sort that's usually written on painted harpsichords and lutes. It will serve just as well to identify it if I accidentally leave it behind at airport security or something.
Anyway...breakfast! Yes, that's what I meant to talk about. This is a picture of my breakfast this morning: pumpkin oatmeal and tea. Isn't the Eeyore mug cute? It contains "O'Sullivan's Favorite" tea from a beautiful little tea shop in Raleigh. Loose-leaf tea, that I make in a proper teapot. The blue and white teapot has a built-in filter, which is quite cool. I've had the teapot for five or six years now, certainly since before I married, but I never used it much. Now I use it almost every day.
Maybe you're curious about the pumpkin oatmeal. Did you know that pumpkin is very good for you? It's high in fiber and Vitamin A, it has a little bit of protein, and it's not very high in calories if you're not putting a bunch of sugar in it to make a pie. Pumpkin oatmeal is very easy. Make your oatmeal as usual--you could probably even do this with the instant kind that you just add boiling water to--and add two tablespoons of mashed pumpkin (I use canned) per serving. Don't use canned pumpkin pie mix (nasty stuff), just plain canned pumpkin. I add raisins and dried cranberries while it is cooking, so the dried fruit plumps up in the hot water. A little brown sugar or maple syrup on top, a little milk, some walnuts or almonds if you need more protein, and it's ready. It takes about ten minutes, maybe less, if you do it on the stovetop with regular oats. I'm sure this would also be good with other kinds of grainy cereal, like that Bob's Red Mill 7 grain hot cereal, but it might be a little weird with Cream of Wheat.
A good, healthy breakfast for a beautiful fall morning.
21 October 2011
Racism
We have a parochial vicar from South America. This has been a problem for some people in the parish ever since he arrived.
"Why did they send us a hispanic priest?!" (Maybe because we have a huge hispanic community?)
"I can't understand him!" (Our sound system is lousy. Try sitting at the front of the church instead of at the very back! Also, some people can't understand your accent. Deal with it.)
"Father, are you coming to the Sodality dinner?"
"Um, I don't know. What is a Sodality?"
"And you call yourself a Catholic priest?!" (Yes, he's just not a native English speaker.)
"Why don't you go back to Mexico." (1. He's not from Mexico. 2. He'd like to go home, but he knows we need him here, because you didn't encourage your sons and nephews to think about becoming priests.)
And no, not all of these people are old. Clearly racism is still an issue here.
We have a parochial vicar from South America. This has been a problem for some people in the parish ever since he arrived.
"Why did they send us a hispanic priest?!" (Maybe because we have a huge hispanic community?)
"I can't understand him!" (Our sound system is lousy. Try sitting at the front of the church instead of at the very back! Also, some people can't understand your accent. Deal with it.)
"Father, are you coming to the Sodality dinner?"
"Um, I don't know. What is a Sodality?"
"And you call yourself a Catholic priest?!" (Yes, he's just not a native English speaker.)
"Why don't you go back to Mexico." (1. He's not from Mexico. 2. He'd like to go home, but he knows we need him here, because you didn't encourage your sons and nephews to think about becoming priests.)
And no, not all of these people are old. Clearly racism is still an issue here.
17 October 2011
Prayers for a Suffering Priest
If you are reading this, please stop and say a prayer for a priest who is suffering. He recently began a very difficult assignment, one that few priests in his diocese would take on willingly. I suspect that even he doesn't do it very willingly, but only because his bishop gave him no choice. He is desperate to leave this situation, already counting down the days until his one year in this assignment will be ended. In the meantime, he does the best he can, but he is depressed and discouraged.
He needs your prayers. All priests need your prayers. Remember especially those who suffer from loneliness and depression, and who are persecuted for doing good work and preaching the faith.
If you are reading this, please stop and say a prayer for a priest who is suffering. He recently began a very difficult assignment, one that few priests in his diocese would take on willingly. I suspect that even he doesn't do it very willingly, but only because his bishop gave him no choice. He is desperate to leave this situation, already counting down the days until his one year in this assignment will be ended. In the meantime, he does the best he can, but he is depressed and discouraged.
He needs your prayers. All priests need your prayers. Remember especially those who suffer from loneliness and depression, and who are persecuted for doing good work and preaching the faith.
08 October 2011
On Glossolalia
I have several friends who have or have had involvement in the Catholic Charismatic movement. I don't care for it myself, but there is one particular feature that I don't have much patience for: the phenomenon referred to as "speaking in tongues."
Many Charismatics, both Catholic and Protestant, use the term "speaking in tongues" to refer to various noises people make that do not correspond to any human language. They may sound like yodeling, muttering, or like ordinary speech in nonsense syllables. Hardly anyone--either the speakers or others--will claim to be able to interpret these "tongues."
These tongues are presumed to correspond to the phenomenon described in 1 Corinthians 14. But is this really what St. Paul was talking about?
Let's look at what some Church Fathers have to say on the issue. St. John Chrysostom clearly equatesthe gift in 1 Corinthians 14:6 the gift to the Apostles at Pentecost; that is, the gift of speaking in human languages never before studied or spoken by the gifted person. Pope St. Leo the Great also equates the gifts described in 1 Cor. 14 with Pentecost. St. Gregory Nazianzen includes Isaiah 28:11 ("With other tongues and other lips will I speak unto this people") in the same category.
Angelic tongues are sometimes mentioned, but when these are spoken, they are still expected to result in rational messages that can be interpreted.
Unintelligible messages (that is, unintelligible in content) are mentioned, and there is some discussion of utterances that cannot be interpreted. These types of utterances are to be kept private, because they are of no value to the community. Standing up in front of a crowd and talking gibberish is not encouraged.
So, if you think you are speaking in an angelic tongue, hook up with someone who has the gift of interpretation. Don't head up to the front of the church, or grab a microphone. If the interpreter can't interpret what you're saying, one of you doesn't have an authentic gift.
If, on the other hand, you suddenly start speaking Mandarin Chinese, or Xhosa, or German, without ever having studied or spoken it before, please seriously consider the possibility that the Holy Spirit is working in you, and may be equipping you for missionary work.
I have several friends who have or have had involvement in the Catholic Charismatic movement. I don't care for it myself, but there is one particular feature that I don't have much patience for: the phenomenon referred to as "speaking in tongues."
Many Charismatics, both Catholic and Protestant, use the term "speaking in tongues" to refer to various noises people make that do not correspond to any human language. They may sound like yodeling, muttering, or like ordinary speech in nonsense syllables. Hardly anyone--either the speakers or others--will claim to be able to interpret these "tongues."
These tongues are presumed to correspond to the phenomenon described in 1 Corinthians 14. But is this really what St. Paul was talking about?
Let's look at what some Church Fathers have to say on the issue. St. John Chrysostom clearly equatesthe gift in 1 Corinthians 14:6 the gift to the Apostles at Pentecost; that is, the gift of speaking in human languages never before studied or spoken by the gifted person. Pope St. Leo the Great also equates the gifts described in 1 Cor. 14 with Pentecost. St. Gregory Nazianzen includes Isaiah 28:11 ("With other tongues and other lips will I speak unto this people") in the same category.
Angelic tongues are sometimes mentioned, but when these are spoken, they are still expected to result in rational messages that can be interpreted.
Unintelligible messages (that is, unintelligible in content) are mentioned, and there is some discussion of utterances that cannot be interpreted. These types of utterances are to be kept private, because they are of no value to the community. Standing up in front of a crowd and talking gibberish is not encouraged.
So, if you think you are speaking in an angelic tongue, hook up with someone who has the gift of interpretation. Don't head up to the front of the church, or grab a microphone. If the interpreter can't interpret what you're saying, one of you doesn't have an authentic gift.
If, on the other hand, you suddenly start speaking Mandarin Chinese, or Xhosa, or German, without ever having studied or spoken it before, please seriously consider the possibility that the Holy Spirit is working in you, and may be equipping you for missionary work.
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