The Second Vatican Council acknowledged the integral role of music in worship, affording it the highest place of any of the arts in the liturgy.[i] Taking many of its words and ideas from St. Pius X,[ii] and with its description of liturgical music as ‘sacred melody united to words’[iii] the Council affirmed that the purpose of liturgical music is for the ‘glory of God and the sanctification of the faithful.’[iv]
The principles and norms of the Second Vatican Council regarding sacred music have been subject to much wild and often irresponsible interpretation and have been used on both ends of the liturgical spectrum to justify forms of worship that offer a distorted view of the principles of participatio actuosa. The active participation of the people in the liturgy is ‘their right and duty by reason of their baptism.’[v] It comprises many forms: ‘acclamations, responses, psalmody, antiphons and songs…actions, gestures and bodily attitudes.’[vi] To this, with specific regard for music, can be added the act of listening; ‘what we say of the one who listens to the Word of God, either preached or recited, can also be applied to the one who listens to it when it is sung, or to the one who listens to sacred music produced by the organ in a liturgical service.’[vii] Music remains probably the most effective means through which the active participation of the people in worship can be achieved, especially if its role as servant is observed.
This fundamental idea of music at the service of the liturgy is the key to its correct application within worship. This flies in the face of popular Enlightenment, Romantic and Post-Romantic trends of thought that exalted an ‘art for art’s sake’ approach to the role of the arts in society.
Music serves the liturgy in various ways. It makes it more attractive; worship is given a more noble form when celebrated in this way.[viii] But this aesthetic appeal is not its primary function: it must work in harmony with the other aspects that follow.
Music highlights the hierarchical nature of the liturgy, with its various roles.[ix] For clergy, cantor, choir, instrumentalists and people there are different parts to play. Music helps synthesise these roles and direct them towards the common end of the Opus Dei.
Music expresses the unity of the worshipping community: ‘the unity of hearts is more profoundly achieved by the union of voices.’[x] It creates a stream of sympathetic vibration through the bodies, hearts and minds of the assembly and heightens their communal experience.
Music ‘raises the minds’ of worshippers to ‘heavenly things.’[xi] This transcendental function cannot be overemphasized, since ‘the aim of Christian worship is to raise up all forms of expression in sound possible here below to the presence of the kyrios.’[xii]
Music prefigures the heavenly liturgy in which all forms of celestial being worship before the Throne.[xiii] Here is perhaps one of the strongest reasons for maintaining a living tradition of sacred music that draws on the centuries past, because the faithful then ‘gain a sense of connection to those who have preceded them in faith as well as the invisible appearance of the blessed in their worship.’[xiv]
In the Eucharist, music plays a crucial role in drawing the assembly into a deeper experience of the sacred mysteries, highlighting the more important moments of the celebration and fostering a greater understanding and experience of the Mystical Body. [xv] However, it can only do this if fidelity to the established liturgical norms is duly observed. Three basic areas are of importance here.
Firstly, deciding which parts of the celebration to sing and which not to sing is fundamental. The singing of the four hymns of the former ‘Low Mass’ to the exclusion of any other part creates a scenario in which the deepest moments of the liturgy are completely overshadowed. By observing the norms in which Alleluia, Sanctus, Mysterium fidei and Amen should always be sung, we focus the assembly on the essence of the Eucharistic Mystery. In singing those parts of the Mass that, of their nature, demand singing (e.g. Gloria and Responsorial Psalm), we remain true to the spirit of the celebration. Through exercising legitimate options such as the use of instrumental music at certain points (like the Offertory or Recessional) we allow the faithful time to pray, to reflect or to rejoice. This requires careful planning and execution and should always be entrusted to those with a clear understanding of prevailing liturgical norms.
Secondly, the choice of variable texts needs to be thoroughly in keeping with the particular celebration. Vatican II was emphatic in this regard: ‘the texts intended to be sung should always be in conformity with Catholic doctrine, indeed they should be drawn chiefly from holy scripture and from liturgical sources.’[xvi] Texts that are sung should always reflect the season or particular celebration. They should draw people’s thoughts into the rite, not sidetrack them away from it. The Council’s injunction also implies that these texts should be imbued with a certain nobility of style, appropriate to the Eucharist as the ‘source and summit of the Church’s life.’ Unfortunately, in many of our churches today the triumph of the banal can be evidenced. Much music contains text that is trite, that is not in true conformity with doctrine and which borders on rampant humanism. This dilutes the impact of the liturgy and endangers its pre-eminent focus, in which human beings come to experience something of the divine.
Thirdly, there is the often-controversial issue of musical style or genre. It is true that the Council affirmed that many types of music can be readily admitted into the sacred liturgy.[xvii] However, the all too often encountered situation in which Catholic church music is seen as a ‘free for all’ is evidence that due thought and regard for liturgical guidelines has not played a role in the selection of music for worship. Clear guidelines have been laid down: Gregorian chant is proper to the liturgy; polyphony, both ancient and modern, is admitted, as is ‘sacred popular music, be it liturgical or simply religious.’[xviii] This last category has been the cause of much debate. At the core of this debate seems to be the blurring of boundaries between liturgy and popular piety and devotion. The latter favours music and text that can be said to hinge on sentimentalism. Even more disturbing is the identification of popular music, particularly in the West, with a fast-moving, consumer-based culture that undermines the values of the Christian message. This music is the cornerstone of advertising and a huge media machine that lacks integrity. Now, transfer this to the liturgical situation and you are on dangerous ground. The Eucharistic sacrifice is unchanging; it does not celebrate the moment but is rooted in a cosmic dimension that transcends all ages and all peoples. Anything that stresses impermanence (‘the moment’) diminishes this. The argument has been postulated that much music in popular idiom used in church does exactly this. It is this same argument that has lead Benedict XVI (writing as Cardinal Ratzinger) to state: ‘By its nature [church] music must be different from music that is supposed to lead to rhythmic ecstasy, stupefying anaesthetization, sensual excitement, or the dissolution of the ego in Nirvana, to name but a few possibilities.’[xix]
In giving clear guidelines on music in the liturgy, the church encourages us to draw on the rich well of our musical heritage as we create liturgical music of the present day.[xx] Adherence to these guidelines allows new works, servants of the sacred mysteries, to spring forth from this well in abundance.
‘The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as proper to the Roman liturgy: therefore, other things being equal, it should be given pride of place in liturgical services.’[xxi] In every sense the traditional music of the Roman church, this ancient art suffered as a result of ignorance and misunderstanding in the years following the Second Vatican Council. The most recent times have seen resurgence in interest in it and in its ability to foster prayer.
Possibly the greatest reason for the retention and promotion of the chant within the liturgy lies in the fact that it is an outstanding example of the five ways, discussed previously, in which music can serve the Eucharistic mystery.
Chant is art. It took shape over centuries. It was crafted, codified
and performed all over
Chant differentiates. It defines, more than any other form of sacred music, the different yet complementary roles of those who take part in worship. Presidential prayers and congregational responses, which need to be clear, audible and easy to sing, are set to simple formulae. Meditation chants, such as the Gradual, require trained singers, giving the choir an opportunity to allow its skill to serve the worshipping community that sits and listens in reverent silence. It has to be remembered that the choir is part of the community and is a legitimate representation of that community. This has been fundamental to Christian worship for centuries. Together, the various types of chant create an organic whole in which those who take part in the liturgy do so externally and internally.
Chant unifies. It was the explicit wish of the Council that the ‘treasury of sacred music…be preserved and fostered with great care.’[xxiii] Plainchant is still the nearest thing we have in the Church to a ‘universal’ form of music – it has and continues to be seen as a unifying element. Paul VI insisted that the liturgical renewal ‘safeguards all those elements that can be of service in strengthening and making clearer to all the bond between believers’ and that therefore ‘the intent to increase singing in large gatherings of the faithful must include concern for Latin Gregorian Chants.’[xxiv]
Chant is transcendent. Christian worship is logo centric; ‘faith becoming music is part of the process of the Word becoming flesh.’[xxv] Gregorian chant is among the earliest examples of this process in Western Christianity. Its performance lies rooted in logos-centered worship, in which human beings seek to lift their minds and hearts to the origin of the logos, God himself. This quote from Benedict XVI (writing as Cardinal Ratzinger) helps explain further this role of chant. ‘As a result of contemplating the mysterium of a cosmic liturgy it becomes necessary to describe in a visible and concrete way the community aspect of worship, the fact that it is an action to be performed, its formulation in words…Thus it was to be made clear that liturgical music was to lead the faithful into the glorification of God, into the sober intoxication of the faith. The emphasis upon Gregorian chant…was therefore ordered at once to the ‘mystery’ aspect of the liturgy and its logos-like character as well as its link the word in history. That emphasis was…supposed to stress anew the authoritative nature of the Patristic standard for liturgical music, which some had occasionally conceived in a manner too exclusively historical. Such an authoritative standard, correctly understood, does not mean exclusion of anything new, but rather means pointing out the direction that leads into open spaces. Here, progress into new territory is made possible precisely because the right path has been found.’[xxvi]
Chant offers a glimpse of the heavenly liturgy. It transcends our human cultures and indigenous expressions. It is not the specific musical language of any ethnic context. Westermeyer claims that ‘in this respect it suggests a proleptic eschatological reality. That reality needs to be held in an incarnational tension with the plurality of our various responses. Our congregational performance practice, when it is healthy, expresses this tension.’[xxvii]
But can we achieve this practically in congregational practice? Undoubtedly, yes. There are many chants, particularly for the Eucharist, that were originally congregational in nature. Westermeyer asserts that ‘monophonic unaccompanied chant is precisely what normal people in virtually every ethnic setting can, in fact, sing most readily; it may well be their musical office; and it is transparent to the word and to the action it carries.’[xxviii] A congregation can master a great many chants for the Ordinary of the Mass after it has had an opportunity to learn this music. This requires time, dedication, effort, willingness and the efforts of sufficiently trained personnel.
Of course, the use of the chant means the use of the Latin language. Its continued use in the Church was reaffirmed by the Council, in subsequent documents and by all the Popes up to the present day.[xxix] Huels points out that ‘the most appropriate use of Latin in the Eucharistic Liturgy is in singing.’[xxx] However the reality is that in many parts of the world its use in the liturgy is barely to be found. There are places in which singing in Latin is even forbidden. Benedict XVI comments that ‘since the Council, there has arisen in many places a fanaticism for the vernacular which is in fact very difficult to comprehend in a multicultural society, just as in a mobile society it is not very logical to hypostasize the congregation.’ [xxxi] A balanced promotion of the vernacular and Latin within the liturgy can only help express the simultaneously universal and particular nature of the church throughout the world.
Pope St. Pius X, in giving Gregorian chant pride of place in his motu
proprio of 1903, was combating what he saw as modernist excesses in a
[i] Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) 112
[ii] Tra le sollecitudini. 1903.
[iii] SC 112
[iv] SC 112
[v] SC 14
[vi] SC 30
[vii] Gomez, M. 1969. Function of Sacred Music and Actuosa Participatio, in Sacred Music and Liturgy Reform after Vatican II, edited by J. Overath: 115
[viii] Musicam Sacram (MS). 1967: 5
[ix] MS 5
[x] MS 5
[xi] MS 5
[xii] Fellerer, K. G. 1969. Liturgy and Music, in Sacred Music and Liturgy Reform after Vatican II, edited by J. Overath : 72
[xiii] MS .5
[xiv] Joncas, M. 1992. Re-reading Musicam Sacram: Twenty-Five Years of Development in Roman Rite Liturgical Music. Worship, 66(3): 220.
[xv] Cf. Pius XII. Mystici corporis Christi. 1943
[xvi] SC 121
[xvii] SC 116
[xviii] cf. SC 116; MS 4
[xix] Ratzinger, J.
[xx] Ratzinger, J. 1996.
[xxi] SC 116
[xxii] Foley, E. 1995. From Displacement to Convergence. Pastoral Music, 19(3): 23.
[xxiii] SC 114
[xxiv] Voluntati obsequens. 1974.
[xxv] Ratzinger, J.
[xxvi] Ratzinger, J. 1996.
[xxvii] Westermeyer, P. 2000. GIA Quarterly, Fall [2000]. Online edition.
[xxviii] Westermeyer, P 2000.
[xxix]
[xxx] Huels, J. OSM. 1997. Canonical Opinion on the use of Latin in the Liturgy.
[xxxi] Ratzinger, J. 1996
[xxxii] Tra le sollicitudini. 1903.
[xxxiii] Joncas, M. 1992. Re-reading Musicam Sacram: Twenty-five Years of Development in Roman Rite Liturgical Music. Worship, 66(3): 221