Hey, She's at least not Solicitor General Kagan!

Short of ordaining HELEN MIRREN or FRANCESCA ANNIS as a prelate,
the C of E could have done a lot worse on the PR front. Of course, I'm a sucker for women with nice smiles and glasses.

Well done, good and faithful servant.

He reminded me of Fr. Solanus Casey. It seemed everytime I saw George Cooke he was entering the church side door as I was leaving from the prior Mass; memory says he, therefore, was always surrounded in light when we encountered each other. His smile would put those of the Cheshire Cat, Sarah Palin and Louie Armstrong in hiding.
George, I've heard, left the Church for a significant period of his life. But when I met him years ago, he was back in her arms as a loving child. He eventually entered the Third Order Franciscans, and with some of his younger, much younger confreres founded a garage schola (Gregorian Schola of St. Francis) long before the movement really got moving. George always said he couldn't really sing, but he would don the cassock and surplice over his brown habit and lip sync or sotto voce the chants in earnest with his fellows. He could always be found at food giveaways with friends of our service organziations. And at our last seasonal concert (Christmastide) he read the translations of the 4th Sunday Advent, Christmas Day and Epiphany Introits before the schola guys chanted them masterfully.
His passing was a surprise, though he'd been in ICU on a ventilator for a while, gradually being weaned from it and we all thought he'd walk with us for a while more. But God smiles, too. And smiled upon his good and faithful servant George at about 6:30pm last evening. A saint (in waiting?) God knows. In my heart, no doubt.
God bless you, George, with eternal Light, Peace and Joy in His Presence. Now sing with a glorious voice.

What Does This Image Mean to You?
First Impression.....

Sweetly benign, set apart?
Its wearer called beyond the banalities of the world? Its wearer sacramentally mandated to be both and at once the human presence of Christ's authority and His (and God's) "mandatum" to be a servant to God's disciples and faithful, putting at odds every man's longing for humility and his need to dominate?

Is there a tension that necessary requires its wearer to lean towards God as an unyielding arbiter of total subserviance to unwavering principles and values of behavior, not to mention obedience and cowering love, and who demands such under penalty and promise of purely black and white eternal judgment?




Is there an unavoidable inclination in our post-modern world that while our BIG BROTHER accessibility to information about anything and anyone informs our regard for those who wear the "collar," that such men cannot integrate the spectrum of expections of their public and personal world-views without resorting to natural fall-back behaviors of denial, egotism, clericalism or denial, naivite and accomodation for its own sake, and such?

For myself, I am convicted that humanity needs the eternal surety of leadership that best represents both the God of justice and mercy. I am likewise convinced that humanity can no longer afford to be passive if that leadership transgresses or deifies either of those qualities via a personification of either that portrays the priests as a sole arbiter.

Simply stated, for none of us, lay or cleric, can it ever be "ALL ABOUT ME."


No, that is NOT "The Way." Look at this man's eyes! When he was ordained and endowed with the privilege and poverty of donning the collar, pride and power were removed by more than the number of dimensions of the universe, so that he could reflect both justice and mercy to all who knocked upon his door.

av·a·tar   /ˈævəˌtɑr, ˌævəˈtɑr/ –noun
1.Hindu Mythology. the descent of a deity to the earth in an incarnate form or some manifest shape; the incarnation of a god.
2.an embodiment or personification, as of a principle, attitude, or view of life.
3.Computers. a graphical image that represents a person, as on the Internet. (courtesy "Dictionary.com

As a soul, I suppose the film pantocrator wouldn't hesitate to drop me into the bin labeled "Terry Gilliam." There's way too much detritus (and isn't everything of this world detritus?) floating about within my cranium that I've always gotten Gilliam and his fellow travelers. Were I really to catch Judge R. Bean on a good day, I might be consigned to the "Coen Brothers" aggregate, though, of late, that might not be much more, uh, comforting.
I've enjoyed most of James Cameron's career. But this little missive ain't about da "king of the world," though he's obviously on top of his and THE game. It's not about revisionist history, ala Tarantino's masterwork "Inglorious Basterds" shares that common factor with "Avatar." Nor is it about theology, ecology, CGI mating with "Ferngully" or mythology and science fiction.
I hope that someone noticed that Cameron wrote at perhaps the most pivotal moment in the saga that "the people" gathered ritually to efficate a "resurrection," so to speak, employed what could rightly be described as "pristine chant." Nevermind the rest of the story; we had crusades with dubious objectives and outcomes too, ya know?
I also hope that it was obvious that the people congregated had to have acquired the chant (words and music NOT EQUAL to the sum of their parts) from oral/aural traditions, that notion backed up by the plot's forthright insistence of their cosmological unity and memory.
I don't know if Mr. Cameron and his associates meant to unite the affects of liturgy with the metaphysics of his cosmos in a way that endorses sensient beings yielding to communion to the higher power, one that barely crosses the malevolent, gluttonous hordes that had become the viking and vandal human demons of various choirs (military and industrial) that choose to serve evil in the name of a perceived good.
But I'm going to give Cameron props for taking that significant amount of time to pay homage to the attributes we celebrate as "the chant." Namely, that it is "timeless, universal and beautiful" and therein lies its meaning as a gift to receive and give as generations remember into the future.

They’ ll know we are Christians by our
DEMILITARIZED ZONES?

I’ve glanced, just glanced, over a recent article posted by the eminent chant scholar and director Edward Schaefer, DMus., at PRAY TELL. I really must take it in thoroughly, with due attention, as his testament is as valuable to a liturgical practitioner as Fr. Ruff’s tome is to a historian and philosopher.
What of it that seized my attention was his confession that he has apparently made the decision to “vote,” I mean worship with his feet by traveling each Sunday to attend an Extraordinary Form Mass, even though that requires traveling over a hundred miles away from home, and presumably his “home parish.”
His is a real saga to be sure. He has paid serious dues for a long time, perhaps rendering to Caesars within the Church that which was not theirs to demand. His decision cannot possibly be associated with those that advocate that church to be “smaller and purer.”
But, for the immediate future, that is precisely to what he has opted to enjoin his soul and his talents.
But this post isn’t really about Dr. Schaefer and his laudable, life-long efforts to ensure that the music he directed at service to God was ever “sacred, universal and beautiful.”

In his story, mine, and those of most folks I know in our particular trawlers on the fickle seas, there has always been constant and varied tensions that make us literally “world weary.” I mean, of course, all that which we curse as “The Liturgy Wars.” But whether the turf we’re attacking or defending is the object of mere skirmishes or full-on frontal assaults as in the Bulge in Belgium, the siege of Leningrad or the protracted insanity of global terrorism, our “war” is really a civil dispute between family members, more akin to the Korean Conflict than a world war, God help us.
Simply because why, having access to more data about “wha’ happened” and to “what should happen” do we, who call ourselves fellows, find ourselves more disabled in the realms of worship than we do in the world itself, to which we are dismissed to both witness to Christ’s Kingship and to recognize Him among the least and most lost of our and His own kind and kin?
We proclaim the Kingdom of God daily in the prayer Jesus offered in response to the most human of questions: “Lord, how should we pray?” We crown Christ as being wholly that King on the last Lord’s Day of each liturgical year as tradition led us to acknowledge. This is not open to semantically nuanced contention by query over gender- specific or antiquated, militaristic revisionist agendas.
We talk a great deal about being fundamentally “anti-cultural” as Christians, both in word, deed and ritual, in contrast to the predominant, contemporaneous social cultures that hold sway over much of our daily lives. We tend to build up some extreme entity to be a hallmark of culture, and then systematically begin to dismantle it and discredit it as its novelty becomes passé. How Christian is that? Sounds more like a wandering, meandering, mistrustful tribe fashioning a new variation on the ol’ local deity theme: “Ooh, we gotta have THIS Golden Calf” before “he” returns from the mountain with the “SOSDD” dictums from “AM.” Rejecting kings is in all of our bloodlines. Only we Americans put a smarmy, sneering spin on it, thinking only as far back as King George or Huey Long. (And how perverse is it that we re-coronate the legacies of truly troubled souls such as Elvis or Michael Jackson after we air out the dirty laundry of their lives upon their deaths?)
We must, as Catholics, remember and honor with equanimity the three legs upon which our Church stands: Scripture, Tradition and the Magisterium. Like it or not, we adhere to an infrastructure founded upon hierarchies, both in our rituals and our administrations. If we accept the notion of the Church Militant, we are obliged to recognize, nee salute its hierarchy, its chain of command. To me, it seems as Hoyle as “natural law.”
But what does it portend when we break ranks with each other because we don’t like or respect or recognize the office of our local “Captain, my Captain?” And we convince ourselves that we can no longer fulfill our sacramental needs among our own neighbors and family (whom we are to un-categorically recognize as “Christ at our door”) if the attributes of the Captain’s leadership, style and those of his crew we find empty or wanting?

to be....

Whatsoever You Do:
Don't "bookend" viewings of A SERIOUS MAN and THE HURT LOCKER back to back in any proximity. In an increasingly shorter span of time I have gone from having to deliberate the existential implications of sociopaths Anton Shigur and Daniel Plainview to the all-too-imminent chaos theory portrayed by the random, achingly meaningless, inconsequential and unfathomable "stories" of these two "Best Film" nominees.
Neither of them has jack squat to do with RC Liturgical Music. Though I must say that there were a couple of ritual oasis moments in "A Serious Man" relevant to reconcilation and sacramental initiation that could give an aware catholic pause.
But, taking these two in at one sitting could prove detrimental to those among us who really believe that there is no world worth considering outside of a sanctuary replete with ritual and its accoutrements.
For me and mine, we need these "shake and bake" moments to remind humanity that to be in the presence of God could prove both dangerous to one's faith, but interminably and excrutiatingly tortuous, with not even a "meaningful" outcome guaranteed.
So, I will be most happy tomorrow to recognize love, which cannot but grow, in the unity that is both unison and in harmony.

Transgressions.

It is beyond my comprehension why so many of us, while traversing the highway of our lives on this earth in these, our eternal souls, cannot resist the billboards lining the way enticing us to exit to see the reptile farm, the cadillac ranch, the house-sized ball of yarn, the Winchester Mystery House, any garish freak show coming up on the next exit.
So, we cannot look at the beggars at our prominent city intersections, even if we drop them a fiver. We cannot bear to see the good heart that may actually beat under the torn and worn clothing of the homeless, so we look away or even cross the street to avoid encounter.
But we will, dollars to donuts, slow down to rubberneck the fiery car crash. We will spend hours looking for "dirt," whether for mere entertainment or for sinister or sinful purposes.
So, now the world's at attention as the infinitesmal looking glass tries to fry open the life, the soul, the integrity of a King that was presumed, nee even ordained, to have been the epitome of a champion. Tiger as Aslan. "Say it ain't so, Joe," is the legendary quote from the kid/fan to Shoeless Joe at the culmination of the Black Sox scandal.
Well, Christ be with Mr. Woods, his wife, his children and those closest to his heart.
Memo to all Talking Heads: All our houses are made of glass in this veil of tears. Try to remember that before you circle your next kill and enter the feeding frenzy. Remember that; Christ will remember.
Then look in the mirror.

From Fr. Anthony de Mello, SJ-"The Heart of the Enlightened"
"A former inmate of a Nazi concentration camp was visiting a friend who had shared an ordeal with him.
'Have you forgiven the Nazis' he asked his friend.
'Yes.'
'Well, I haven't. I'm still consumed with hatred for them.'
'In that case,' said his friend gently, 'they still have you in prison.'"

...(our enemies are not those who hate us but those whom we hate)...

"We will not negotiate with terrorists"
This quote is so ubiquitous that to ascribe an original source is not worth the time to research, in my opinion. But it has been so oft misappropriated and uttered by blustery pols and demigogues that it is cliche in Hollywood scripts.
Try thinking about the quote if it were uttered by St. Francis of Assissi. What if by living the prayer we realized the truth of the impotence of terrorism?

It is posited the original publication of the prayer of St. Francis was submitted anonymously to the French publication La Clochette in 1912.

Seigneur, faites de moi un instrument de votre paix.
Là où il y a de la haine, que je mette l'amour.
Là où il y a l'offense, que je mette le pardon.
Là où il y a la discorde, que je mette l'union.
Là où il y a l'erreur, que je mette la vérité.
Là où il y a le doute, que je mette la foi.
Là où il y a le désespoir, que je mette l'espérance.
Là où il y a les ténèbres, que je mette votre lumière.
Là où il y a la tristesse, que je mette la joie.
Ô Maître, que je ne cherche pas tant à être consolé qu'à consoler,
à être compris qu'à comprendre,
à être aimé qu'à aimer,
car c'est en donnant qu'on reçoit,
c'est en s'oubliant qu'on trouve, c'est en pardonnant qu'on est pardonné,
c'est en mourant qu'on ressuscite à l'éternelle vie.


Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.

I did not come to bury OCP...

After the last post, it occured to me that I might be counted among those that are fully encamped in the "OCP is THE LITURGICAL/INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX" wing of musical directors. That's not the case.
So, in a possibly insufficient, but earnest effort at "restorative justice" I'd like to mention that in the same issue of TODAY'S LITURGY, Angela Westhoff-Johnson, OCP's octavo reviewer and editorial staffer (as well as Portland Cathedral's DM) reviews one composition by a very talented, under the radar, composer. The piece is an "O Magnum Mysterium" by Douglas Kingsley. I completely agree with the compact praise for this work by Mrs. Westhoff-Johnson, and likely would have added more.
(She also offers a larger review of Michael Joncas' "Rorate caeli" that directors with solid choirs should audition, absolutely!)
I briefly met Mr. Kingsley in the Spring of this year. He happened to have attended our Schola Mass inwhich we generally sing the Rice Choral Propers, a couple of chant ordinary movements, chant at Communion and a motet. He introduced himself after the Mass as a chorister from the DC/Baltimore area, we chatted, I think I gave him a copy of a Gloria that is based upon Proulx's "Misa Oecumenica." He was so gentlemanly, kind and unpretentious. He never once mentioned he was a composer with many pieces published by Trinitas, OCP's more challenging choral series. Then I received in the Summer a post with about three of his pieces, including the reviewed work. Sublime stuff. Check Mr. Kingsley's work out by all means. Mrs. Westhoff-Johnson thought his piece was a humble gem to keep in folders for quick access, if needed. I think there's more depth to his noble simplicity than that, but she was very positive. So am I about Mr. Doug Kingsley.

Saturday meandering. That means I'm wandering aimlessly. Which means I'm kind of going sideways to sideways.

This post is likely to take some time to process, both for myself as I lay it out, and for anyone who takes up the task of reading and following a possible tenuous thread.
In the latest volume of the OCP periodical, TODAY'S LITURGY (Advent-Epiphany 09-10) Dr. Elaine Renler-McQueeny offers the following commentary for the Fourth Sunday of Advent Music Selections (the word emphases are mine, without explanation):

"Our liturgy overflows with the news that our God loves us, and that he has prepared a human body for his Son. Almost everyone is familiar with the scriptural text of the Magnificat. Kudos to musicians for teaching it in song. For a change of pace, here's a contemporary poetic rendering of Mary's Canticle for your Advent reflection. Sometimes we use this version...before meals during this graced season. Teachers often have enjoyed using it with youth at retreats and non-liturgical gatherings. May you and your musicians (and even your liturgy committees) enjoy Mary's Song from The Message.

I'm bursting with God-news;
I'm dancing the song of my Savior God.>

God took one good look at me, and look what happened-
I'm the most fortunate woman on earth!
What God has done for me will never be forgotten,
The God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others.
His mercy flows in wave after wave
On those who are in awe before him.
He bared his arm and showed his strength,
Scattered the bluffing braggarts,
He knocked tyrants off their high horses,
Pulled victims out of the mud.
The starving poor sat down to a banquet;
The callous rich were left out in the cold.
He embraced his chosen child, Israel;
He remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high.
It's exactly what he promised,
Beginning with Abraham and right up to now.

Luke 1:46-55, The Message. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2004

When I first read this yesterday I was struck dumb by a number of reactions. What would prompt a reasonably respected Liturgist/Musician to proffer such an impoverished and pretentiously modest translation of a perfect singularity among all of scriptural and liturgical hymntexts ever transcribed and uttered for human edification? Even though Dr. Rendler qualifies its usage as devotional or inspirational, for personal not liturgical assignment, that she would determine that this mixture of pre-adolescent prose in a soup that also contains bodice-ripper images of God's arms that would make Michelangelo blush, and which is a blatantly pale surrogate for the metaphors in the Song of Solomon, as well as a hubris on Mary's part that contradicts (in my estimation) the overall ethos of supreme humility and trust in God explcitly evident in the scripture passage, (pause for breath) confounds me. And I was literally surprised that her source was Zondervan. No more to say on that.

Where I'm going with this is that it might be reasonable to conclude that Dr. Rendler and Archbishop Trautman are philosophical pals if the issue of literacy and understanding of our ritual texts was on their table. Maybe that's a stretch of an assumption, and I know what "assume" can lead to, but....
Abp. Trautman has fired his official salvo across the bow regarding the "intelligibility" with this recent quote: "“The vast majority of God’s people in the assembly are not familiar with words of the new missal like ‘ineffable,’ ‘consubstantial,’ ‘incarnate,’ ‘inviolate,’ ‘oblation,’ ‘ignominy,’ ‘precursor,’ ‘suffused’ and ‘unvanquished.’ The vocabulary is not readily understandable by the average Catholic,”

The standard rendition of the Magnificat:

My soul magnifies the Lord,
And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
For He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden,
For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with His arm:
He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and exalted those of low degree.
He has filled the hungry with good things;
and the rich He has sent empty away.
He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy;
As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to His posterity forever.

Returning to Dr. Rendler's endorsed version, is Mary bursting after receiving "God-news" literally (like Mr. Creasote in "The Meaning of Life") or is she acting like she just received a full-access pass backstage at a Josh Groban concert?
She dances. Is that magnifying God, and rejoicing? You make the call.
And his mercy "flows wave after wave." I get the generation analogy, but I'm a bit distracted more by an ironic image from the film "From here to eternity." My bad.
I need to wind this down. Obviously I realize that "bluffing braggarts" might be more accessible a term than "ignominy" and that teenagers may get it that "callous" might mean something other than hardened crusty fingertip tissue after a 48 hour "Guitar Hero" marathon.
But the thing that so msytifies me (and truthfully, offends me as a teacher) is that such efforts to make all vocabularies relevant and user-friendly literally insults the noble philosophical goal for all humans to savor the subtleties and treasures gifted to us by God with language. Is there no deeper meaning to transformative power when St. John writes "In the beginning was the Word."? And to think that those nuances become even more precious when they are transformed into many languages other than Latin to English!
When I think of mercies bestowed, I rather tend to think of a helping hand, a fresh breath and a new start and a rising attitude. Heck, I might even break out into singing with Josh- "You raise me UPPPPPPPP..."
But being piled upon, hmmmmmm. And piled on again? You don't want to know what that image could evoke.

Home at All Souls

As I mentioned in the last entry, my schedule has been erratic, my attention span more than erratic. So much so that this morning I'd not only forgotten that the school's second grade "All Saints Pageant" was TODAY, but I looked at watches that I'd not set back an hour on Saturday, called the school in a panic only to realize the time frame was still good! The kids were precious.
But somewhere in all the mix I didn't learn until verbal announcements yesterday that for the first time an ALL SOUL'S Mass would be held at our civic cemetery. So, I emailed the pastor and asked if he would like music ministry. Some of you might say, "Well, that's expected, C., why would you have to ask?" We have a lot of Masses among four parishes now, Christmas (and the school play doth approach as does the choral seasonal concert) and I'm bushed! How's that?
Anyway, the pastor was kind enough to reply in the affirmative. And he indicated one of our resident associates would be presiding at the cemetery.
So this morning, after the second grade, I hop to putting together THE ORDER OF MUSIC! I figured that a reasonable crowd of 50 folks would show; they're used to some Latin- heck, we're going for the whole enchilada!
So I use MS Pub and master up "Requiem aeternam" (Introit), provide the translation for the Offertorio, the Sanctus and Agnus Dei from "Jubilate Deo" (which conveniently are from the Requiem, the "Lux aeterna" for the Communio and "In paradisum" for the dismissal. We run off 100 copies and I figure we're locked and loaded. Then Father Dan comes in as we're running the second page of the back to back, and mentioned he'd envisioned a Spanish/English bi-lingual service with some "familiar" songs, title's unspecified.
The really cool thing is that we COLLABORATED; he got my thrust, I got his.
When Mass time began in the midst of the mausoleum at 12:15pm there were at least 150 people. The sun was brutal on the north half of the atrium, but the 40-50 seats somehow shifted to the shade and everyone found their, ahem, comfortable niche.
One of the speakers of the PA provided was in the corner of the mausoleum where my grandparents are interred, so I set up my stand there next to them. I can't describe the feeling I had throughout the Mass singing the chants and hymns with my namesake's remains within touching distance. And my crypt is a diagonal stone's throw across from their little cremation niches. The karma, the karma!
My Franciscan schola buddy, Ralph, joined me for a duo schola.
And off we go! The Mass has joined the ranks of those where purpose, intent, participation, spirituality, mystery and liturgy have locus together. Father Dan even went tri-lingual. His collects, prayers, homily and blessings flowed flawlessly from English to Spanish and, gasp, LATIN! It only reaffirmed to me a maxim that I posted here some time ago: when people mean to be there for the right reasons, they are engaged. And that doesn't just mean vocally.
We've been concluding funeral Masses with "In paradisum" consistently for a number of years now, but we've always had just a cantor or a small schola render the chant. What a moment to have the folk make their best attempts at joining in that beautiful commendation.
And as Father Dan said, this "new" tradition for us in this town simply is a natural grafting upon those primitive gatherings in the burial catacombs of our forebears millenia ago.
God bless the souls in Purgatory. Pray for them as the Saints pray for us. If we forbear, our reservation to finally see our Heavenly Host and His hosts will always be honored.

Rembrandt von Rijn,
THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL SON.


The Muse among the mongering...

I haven't been inattentive to posting purposely; there's been a significant amount of distraction and duties that have impacted my schedule over the last month. But, moreso than those, I've had reservations about "putting myself out there" amidst so much "noise" from all corners of "my" world.
I've been truly shocked by the incessant, indefensible and wholly incoherent series of bombings of "strategic" targets, aka "non-combatant" civilians in Pakistan, Iraq and Afghanistan this week. I've been troubled by an apparently equally incoherent inability on the part of our national government leadership to actually govern, whether the issue is health care, the pandemic, the deployment of troops in the Middle East, the economy and banking, or whatever else is rendered unto Caesar.
I've been flummoxed at the sheer volume and shrill harping over the efforts of our Holy Father to reconcile with Christian denominations, the Orthodox, and our own divergent and perhaps schismatic Church's membership over issues, large and small, that he entreaties with charity, and is responded to with calumny and derision.
These last Sundays of the liturgical year do have, as our pastor rightly mentioned in a recent homily, a sense of urgency found in the scripture readings. That urgency reaffirms that we followers of Christ's Way have to make an ultimate decision that arbitrates nearly every thought we have and utter, and every decision and action we choose to take: are we about "power" and all that implies, or are we about "love" and all that implies? And there's nothing conditional about either of those maxims; we either live under one umbrella or the other. And the tempests and flurries of real life will yet and still try our fortitude to hold onto that umbrella, moment by moment, day by day, year by year.
To those who would think I'm an enemy- I offer you my love. To those who have loved me and I've offended that love- I offer my apology, sorrow and regret and repent of that sin in order to receive your love again. To my God, my Creator; His Son, my Redeemer and Lord; and the Spirit who counsels and comforts me- I love You with an undying, unyielding faith. And because of that, I will yield my self, my "power," and whatever other trappings of this earthly existence, as an offering in kind, substance and unity with Christ's redemptive sacrifice. And I will likely fail in holiness and truth. But I still choose "love."

Anima Christi, sanctifica me.
Corpus Christi, salva me.
Sanguis Christi, inebria me.
Aqua lateris Christi, lava me.
Passio Christi, conforta me.
O bone Jesu, exaudi me.
Intra tua vulnera absconde me.
Ne permittas me separari a te.
Ab hoste maligno defende me.
In hora mortis meae voca me.
Et iube me venire ad te,
Ut cum Sanctis tuis laudem te.
In saecula saeculorum.
Amen

Saint Mary’s Parish, California
Order of Music-Sept. 6, 2009
23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time


Introit Antiphon:S Lord, You are just… (Simple Choral Gradual/R.Rice)

Entrance: S O GOD, BEYOND ALL PRAISING 366 (Thaxted)
E READY THE WAY 435 (B.Hurd) cp

Opening Rites: S Misa Oecumenica (Proulx)
E Kyrie/Glory to God (New Danish Amen Mass-Culbreth)

Responsorial:SE Respond & Acclaim

Gospel Accl.:S Misa Oecumenica (Proulx)
E Alleluia (New Danish Amen Mass-Culbreth)

Offertory:S HEALING RIVER OF THE SPIRIT (Beach spring)
E YOU ARE THE HEALING (Soper)

Eucharistic Accl.:S Misa Oecumenica (Proulx)
E Holy/Christ/ Amen /Lamb (New Danish Amen Mass-Culbreth)

Communion Procession: SE Antiphon: JUST AS THE DEER (Sicut cervus-Palestrina)
SE PS. 42: AS THE DEER LONGS (B.Hurd)

Communion Anthem:S organ solo (if necessary)
E I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD 236 (Hayakawa)

Recessional:S NOW THANK WE ALL OUR GOD (Nun danket)
E YOUR GRACE IS ENOUGH (Maher)

Twenty-second Sunday, Ordinary
Order of Music

Saint Mary’s Parish, California
Order of Music-Aug.30, 2009
22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time



S=8:30/E=10am
Introit Antiphon: S “I call to You…” (Simple Choral Gradual/R.Rice)
Entrance:S NOW THAT THE MORNING HAS BROKEN (Brown)
E SPEAK, LORD (Uszler)

Opening Rites: S Misa Oecumenica (Proulx)
E Kyrie/Glory to God (New Danish Amen Mass-Culbreth)

Responsorial:SE Respond & Acclaim

Gospel Accl.: S Misa Oecumenica (Proulx)
E Alleluia (New Danish Amen Mass-Culbreth)

Offertory:S ALL GOOD GIFTS (Keil) from Epistle reading
E PRAISE TO YOU, O CHRIST OUR SAVIOR (B.Farrell)

Eucharistic Accl.:S Misa Oecumenica (Proulx)
E Holy/Christ/ Amen /Lamb (New Danish Amen Mass-Culbreth)

Communion Procession: Antiphon: “O Lord, how great is the depth…”(Simple Choral Gradual/R.Rice)
SE BLEST ARE THEY (Haas)

Communion Anthem:S IF YE LOVE ME (Tallis)
E YOUR WORDS ARE SPIRIT AND LIFE (B.Farrell)

Recessional:S Organ postlude
E IN THE DAY OF THE LORD (Ridge)

Sacre Bleu!
Le Cantique de Stephan Janco. I have more than a passing acquaintance with Steven Janco's much heralded "Mass of Angels and Saints." It's almost unbelievable how long it has been around, this heavyweight "contenda" destined to succeed MoC, according to their own publisher's initial publicity campaign of yore.

I have no doubt that the object d'art that hooked me when I first read the Mass setting was that its nose wafted with the aromas of truffles, anise, zitroen and most notably Michel Legrand. Legrand's Mancini (only French) penchant for the lilting melodic hook fascinated me from the day I first heard the music from "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg." Heck, Wendy and I had "What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life" sung during the Offertory at our wedding Mass. (It WAS 1974, whadidwe know?)
We even went to a few of Legrand's concerts when he'd blow through Concord.
Janco doesn't quote Legrand in MoAaS, but the motive that he repeatedly quotes (think of the Hosanna from the Sanctus) has that Franco-Euro soundtrack lilt that seems to only invoke "zat zounds zo luffly." And lovely it truly is.
I do remember, upon that first blush, noticing that this lovely tune was, however, less delicately supported by its choral arrangement. In point of fact, the SATB wasn't just inadequate, it was clumsy. I might have scribbled some alternative versions of movements that had the melody in the tenor and/or bass voices, with parallel harmonies assigned to altos and perhaps some contrapuntal descants whose rhythms alternated with those of the motive (think soprano versus alto lines in "Angels we have heard on high refrain")
Like MoC, MoAaS was supposed to be a hybrid; available to modernists and traddie choirs alike. But what was clear is that its metier was clearly geared for the ensemble, a Parisian quartet of piano, archtop guitar, bass and accordian. If you go to its publisher's order page today, you'll see about a dozen items you can order to augment this humble and singable Mass, including the ubiquitous Brass Quintet and Tympani parts! Mon Dieu!
We here in CenCA have infused it into rotation once in a bleu moon, but it doesn't hold our interest for more than a couple of months each go 'round. But, it is still fresh when not encumbered by too much accompaniment hoopla. Less is more, I believe, with this setting. Using a Django quartet and some light voices in the right mix, perhaps a soft soprano or alto sax lightly (not wailing like Jan Garbarek sometimes) improvising, has a nice finish.

Oh, and they used it in New Orleans this afternoon. I couldn't see clearly, but I think it was either Manny Ramirez or Big Papi on tympani.
A little Legrand goes a long way. Oh, and a little Faure to compliment the spiritual would relieve the palate as well. Au revoir.

Pretty much sums it up for me.


Coming SOON:
LEAD, FOLLOW, OR GET OUTTA
THE WAY, THE TRUTH AND THE LIFE
Liturgy and Music: Marines-Strong!
HT to Creative Minority Report

For those who are confused as to what this is about.
CREATIVE MINORITY REPORT is an orthodox blog that approaches the practice of Catholic living from the perspective of humor. They self-attribute their collective blog name from the following quote:
""Believing Christians should look upon themselves as such a creative minority and ... espouse once again the best of its heritage, thereby being at the service of humankind at large." --Joseph Ratzinger
The accompanying and borrowed graphic is from one of their author/artists who meant to capitalize (for better or worse) the then prevailing U.S. Government policy of "Cash for Clunkers" in the auto industry, which was promulgated to incentivize people towards both trading in older, inefficient cars for more idyllic technology in certain companies' catalogues. The analogy spoofed the whole project by the common, comical notion of the car salesman. But underlying the whole notion of both the graphic as well as the blog is that our Holy Father is decidedly NOT, unlike his or other public figures' caricatures, "crazy."
By satirizing the transient (sorry for the hapless, hirsute cleric) for the ideal, the faux-ad declares unabashedly a longing for real reform, real benefit, real human dignity that has been contravened for four generations of gadgetry.
Holy Father Benedict XVI, Papa and Bishop of Rome, is only "crazy" like a fox. He has the Light of Christ pointed for us to show us the way: lex orandi, lex credendi.

I am generally amused by the CREATIVE MINORITY folks' living up to their nominal adjective. I am generally not amused by those who miss the big point in order to demonize such free-thinking that works with and for the Church and the Holy Spirit. But, I digress. Such now have their explanation for the post. In such hubris, they betray the humility of their faith, their spiritual leader and the tenets of Christ's second answer to the Pharisees' semantical trap: "What is the greatest commandment?"

Elegies All Around

It has been an otherworldly, weird week in the valley violent death category. I'm not leading with that to prepare for a reading in cynicism; we just have our more than fair share of daily drive-by's, horrific crashes, whatnot. But one day after another found: a murder-suicide (girlfriend by boyfriend,) a teen unsuccessfully playing the "game" Russian Roulette (the newspaper quoted the boy's father declaring his son to have shown a promising future,) and an elderly, respected husband and wife knived and slain in their home, which happened to be the site of their massive marijuana cultivation/distribution operation!

I just returned to my office from the funeral Mass of the young lady murdered by her boyfriend. Our principal organist provided primary music ministry. I asked him he wanted some intinerent flute, so I added some obligatos and a couple of slower sonata movements. Basically, something simply called me to attend this particular funeral.

The mourners were a disparate lot, which is more the common experience nowadays than not, with suits and ties, T-shirts and spaghetti straps, tribal tattoos and plunging neckline cleavage....and very little audible evidence that any "catholics" were actually present. But, in light of the circumstances, the crowd was very somber and respectful.

I lightly regard funerals as a sort of hybrid "chickens home to roost" cum "come to Jesus" existential enterprise. I've done so many over forty plus (starting with my suicide dad's) that have covered the waterfront of human success and failure in this world that the only attitude I try to assume going into one is of resolution and hope. But I rejoice occasionally when surprised by grace.

In threes: One, a pall-bearer, strong-as-iron-carriage in RayBans, wiping a tear after a Bach "Siciliano"; Two, Miss Spaghetti straps, tight jeans, curves a-flowing over, with her eyes closed, intently responding "Lord, hear our prayer" during the general intercessions; and Third (the best) the deceased girl's mother adding a coda to a very brief eulogy in which she instructed all present "to keep God FIRST in your lives! When I ask my grandkids 'who's first in your love?' and they say 'Mommy and Daddy,' I tell them, 'No, GOD COMES FIRST!'"

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men."

Till, ringing singing, on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men!
(Longfellow)

Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.

St. John the Baptist Church,
El Cerrito, California
Position for Music Director
is apparently now open here.








These are photosnaps I took last summer while visiting my previous and last parish whilst working in Oakland Diocese. At the time we visited, a wedding was about two hours hence from commencing, thus the bows on pews.
This is a baptismal font that was part of their renovation (not there during my time up to '87)





These are examples of the "homegrown" paintings displayed below the sculpted (not pictured) stations lining the nave walls.

The Cathedral of Saint Cecilia
"Progressive Dinner" Today




I have tried to find the exact Order of Worship for Archbishop George Lucas’ Installation Mass today with no success. So, my reflections on the service will be “on the fly” or “off the cuff,” so to speak.
One of the most difficult things I wrestle with when watching these ceremonies is that it’s obviously an easier path to criticize from a negative perspective when assessing from afar than to acknowledge liturgical “improvements.” This was made clear with the fur flying over Abp. DiNoia’s installation.
So, in bullets, off we go:
*Could the setting, tempo and performance of the first processional hymn set to “Lasst uns erfreuen" have been sleepier? By the seventh stanza or so, when the harmonization took some extreme turns, the organist's shoes seemed to have leaden soles a bit. I know that select camera shots don’t give an accurate portrayal of what’s actually going on in toto, but everytime a camera zoomed in upon an unwary priest already installed in a pew, said priest wasn’t singing. And there wasn’t much in the first processional to really look at, frankly.
*The second processional; was it a proper Introit? Was it antiphonal?
*Then “Praise to the Lord” (Lobe den Herrn) was taken up with some verve by all.
*As the archbishop finally entered and processed the choir took up a polyphonic proper, I assume. Nicely done. It also edified the notion of active participation through keen observation by the Faithful and ministers assembled.

One wonders at this point: why, if the intention is to engage both types of participation, was it absolutely necessary to stack so much vocal music before the episcopal introit? At subsequent moments in the Mass, much action was accompanied by instrumental music alone.

*Did anyone else hear some sort of “wind chimes” after the choral proper, and before the “In Nomine Pater?” And, given the extraordinarily milky tenor voice the Abp. possesses, why was that not cantillated? I mean, really?
*The welcome and introduction by Abp’s successor evoked laughter immediately after the commencement of the solemn liturgy. Why? I didn’t see the Dolan liturgy, but what is it about the presumed necessity to have a “Tonight Show” moment at American mega-liturgies?
*Does anyone else hate those flesh-eating Broadway wireless mics besides me?
*I don’t have my Ceremonial of Bishops handy at home, no Kyrie but a through sung “Glory to God” that seemed to quote “In Babilone” with some acceptable choral interludes.
*Everything seemed to be fudged half-way a bit:
a. Three candles flanking both sides of the altar, no crucifix.
b. The First Reading read in Spanish, AND then all the verses of a serviceable psalm also exclusively sung in Spanish?
c. The “communities” reception by the archbishop-
*The most decked-out cleric was, in fact, the Winnebago chief?
*Were the identically clad women in nylon print outfits nuns or twins?
* Was the gentlemen in the fez a Shriner, a dervish, what?
*The Gospel Acclamation: I defy anyone without the music to guess where the melody would go next. The verses rendered by the choir weren’t intelligible from the broadcast, hopefully not in St. Cecilia Cathedral. But I couldn’t help thinking that would have been an ideal location for a Latin Alleluia to be chanted.
*The “Heldentenor” deacon intones the Gospel collect and the congregation responds in force with his upper tessitura chestily. Then he RECITES the Gospel?
*The Spanish/English General Intercession’s setting was very, very tiresome. And what was with the yellow flowered English garden hiding the cantor at the lecturn? And the Abp. recites the concluding prayer of same instead of chanting…..But bishop, your voice….you could be one of the Priests! (From Ireland fame.)
*This is an honest question. What was the silver container (percolator-like) from which the wine was poured into the chalices?
*No Sanctus bells, no way, no how! How’d that happen? Or not happen?
*The Community Mass/Isele “Lamb of God”- stolid, safe choices.
*The “Pater noster” recited. I though Rocco said the archbishop knew his liturgical stuff?
*Why does the Sign of Peace at these events always morph into the “Murmuring of peace” or the “Din of peace?”
*Finally, a Latin Communio….sung well by the women….for a whole thirty seconds or so….then
*Not one, but two settings of Psalm 23 (St. Columba) and an antiphonal setting of which I’m not acquainted.
*Very long choral motet, seemed to be from the Romantic era, or the neo-polyphonic style but not like Stanford…..

Then my Tivo DVR, programmed for the block assigned by EWTN ended.

I’m not going to digest any of this yet. Just reporting what I observed.